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A 20TH CENTURY 
CINDERELLA 

OR 

$20, OCX) REWARD 

AN ANGLO-AMERICAN UP-TO DATE REALISTIC ROMANCE 


BY 

W. Y. WINTHROP 

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PUBLISHERS 

114 

FIFTH AVENUE 

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the library of 
CONGRESS, 
Two Copies Received 

JUN. 2 1902 

^Copyright entry 
eiASS <^XXa No, 
COPY B. 


Copyright 190a, 
by 

THE 

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NOTE. 


This work divides itself naturally into two parts : the scene of the first is 
laid in the States ; that of the second (to follow in due course) in England. The 
author aims at keeping the interest of the reader alive by a succession of realistic 
and exciting episodes. 

The general idea is the following: A Western multi-millionnaire having 
equipped his only son, an eccentric but noble fellow, with a large fortune, packs 
him off to Europe and secure an English wife. The youth does both. The 
thrilling adventures of the couple form the principal subject of this volume. The 
underlying leit-motif is the influence for good the heroine (a formerly down- 
trodden orphan) has on all who come into contact with her charming personality. 




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‘4 



TO THE READER. 

A FEW introductory words may not be out of place. Though 
this book, I confess, is melodramatic and contains several rather 
startling situations, it is not my wish that it should be regarded 
as wholly sensational and nothing more. In the first place, I 
have endeavored to touch upon the hideous moral evils that a 
thoroughly corrupt and Godless form of municipal government 
promotes and fosters. Secondly, in a spirit of prophecy I have 
introduced into this narrative practical illustrations of some of 
the uses toughened aluminum (the metal of the near future) 
will be put to. And thirdly, I have given to the American public 
a specimen (in the second part of this work) of one of the many 
possible road tours, pleasant and instructive in an equal degree 
to cyclist and automobilist alike, that may be made in the old 
country. The fixing of the period of my story nearly a quarter 
of a century ahead of the present year of Grace has been of 
great advantage to me, the author. Besides being able to prop- 
erly exploit the white metal above referred to, I am given thereby 
a wide latitude in the matter of describing ladies' costumes, it 
being impossible for the most captious critic to point out any 
breaks I may unwittingly have made (though I confess to having 
studied the subject to some extent) from the fact that M. Felix 
himself would be unable to foretell what the actual fashions 
might be twenty years or so hence. And in another direction 
also I am benefited through adopting the above plan. I have 
been compelled to use the professional appellations and titles of 
certain living persons. But it must be evident to these indi- 
viduals, owing to this precautionary measure, that I have not in 
any way intended to refer to them personally. 

I am myself to a great extent a citizen of the world, and con- 
sider national prejudices as narrow-minded and foolish. Know- 
ing the two countries so well, I do not hesitate to insist on the 
vital necessity, not only for their mutual commercial benefit, but 
even for their absolute existence, of England and the United 
States preserving friendly relations. The destruction of the one 
would inevitably entail that of the other. If I have, in these 
pages, gently lashed manners, morals, and mistakes on this side 


6 


To The Reader. 


of the Atlantic, it must be readily conceded that I have not 
in these respects spared my own country. 

The story itself is simple and straightforward, some people may 
say plotless, and merely a succession of incidents. Well, after 
all, real life is a good deal that way, and it is better to have 
too much action than too little in these hustling times. I ruth- 
lessly ride rough-shod over the canon of Novelistic propriety, 
and after a brief unsatisfactory courtship, marry my hero and 
heroine in an early portion of the book. Why should not married 
life be as interesting as the incomplete and tentative period that 
precedes it? It is only after people have been nominally made 
one that the real tragedy or comedy of life commences. The 
happy pair have been sparring (metaphorically speaking) with 
big gloves during courtship. When the orange blossoms have 
withered, the united lovers too often resort to the three-ounce 
variety of hand coverings, or even discard these appendages 
altogether. Whether the result of tying the fatal knot be for- 
tunate or untoward, it seems evident, that in married life the 
aspiring novelist possesses an almost unexplored territory 
abounding in bonanzas. 

I have had, in order to work the machinery of my story, to 
introduce villains and villainesses, but I do not allow these some- 
what out-of-date gentry to linger long superfluous on the stage. 
If permitted to live they are apt to lumber up a romance or a play. 
So with Shakespearean promptitude I consign them to violent 
deaths just as soon as they have accomplished or tried to accom- 
plish their atrocities. 

If the course of true love of my two most prominent char- 
acters proceeds smoothly after the extremely close call of being 
wiped out they each of them severally ran, so much the better. I 
hate pessimists. Novelists should above everything be virile, 
wholesome, and cheerful. It is the mission of a romance writer 
to endeavor to interest his readers, make them laugh if he can, 
and anyway to give his Characters a good send off, instead of 
consigning them, as so many modern hypochondriacal scribblers 
do, to untimely deaths, or to insane asylums. It is the duty of 
every one to be as happy as possible and to make those around 
them happy. This is all that there is to philosophy, Christian or 
otherwise. 

W. Y. WiNTHROP. 

WooDMONT, Conn., U. S. A. 


CONTENTS 


PART I. 

CHAPT-ER ^ PAGE 

I. Arrival of the Calais-Douvre g 

II. Dora Starts a Bible Class i8 

III, Left Behind 27 

IV. Doubt and Despair ^7 

V. A Down-Town Sporting Joint ^7 

VI. The New York Mercy House 62 

VII. Slocum Writes an Ad 70 

VIII. The Mother Superior Reads the Ad 78 

IX. Jim Kisses the Mother Superior 81 

X. Keziah Gets the Hump 89 

XL A Record Breaking Trip gg 

XII. The Reporter Interviews the Lawyer m 

XIII. Marriage 120 

XIV, Mystification 130 

XV. Westward Bound 143 

XVI. A Legal Quibble 131 

XVII. The Canon Parts his Coat Tails 156 

XVIII. Diamonds and Devils 161 

XIX. The Kodaking of the Anarchist 170 

XX. A Momentous Decision 182 

XXI. A Train Holp-Up, 1^2 

1* 


8 


Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXII. The Passing of the Anarchists 197 

XXIII. A Triumphal Progress 208 

XXIV. The Lawyer Pumps the Secretary 217 

PART II. 

I. The Terrace of the Commons 235 

II. Secrets of Social Success 246 

III. The Diary Re-opened 257 

IV. Luxurious Gipsying 268 

V. A Forest Picnic 281 

VI. A British Coney Island 295 

VII. The Camp Completed 309 

VIII. The Bandit Plugger Shoots the Crow 317 

IX. Tintern Abbey by Daylight 331 

X. A Grand Celebration 33S 

XI. The Old Man Makes a Kick 3^1 

XII. The Hidden Stenographer ^61 

XIII. A Hole in the Water ^77 

XIV. Annie’s Birthday ^32 

XV. A Sermon on Stones ^^2 

XVI. A Mashing Old Salt 

XVII. The Admiral Strikes his Flag 406 

XVIII. The Rape of the Lock 409 

XIX. ^ The Yanks Skin the Bookies 418 

XX. Cinderella’s Homecoming 426 

XXL A Legal Heretic 432 

XXII. The West Window 443 


A 20TH CENTURY CINDERELLA 


PART I. 

STRAYED, WAYLAID. 

There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, 

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. 

— Hamlet^ Act I., S. 5. 


CHAPTER I. 

ARRIVAL OF THE CALAIS-DOUVRE. 

There is probably no place on the seacoast of Great Britain that 
the world at large is better acquainted with than Dover. In early 
times it was already a port of repute, and was unquestionably used 
by the Keltic inhabitants of the Southern and richest portion of 
the Island, for the purpose of carrying on with the adjacent 
country of Gaul an extensive commerce in cattle, wheat, and 
wool. 

The Romans with their usual sagacity perceived and appreci- 
ated the strategic value of the place and protected it by one of 
their permanent camps, on the very spot on which long after- 
wards William the Conqueror, as part of his scheme in securing 
his recently subjugated kingdom, constructed a strong castle, 
which in its turn as a means of defense has given way to the 
formidable fortifications that now crown the height commanding 
both the land and the sea approaches. 

For several centuries Dover figures (not nominally as now, 
but in stern reality) as one of the five maritime Burghs known 
even to this day as the Cinque Ports,” each of which in those 

9 


10 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

troublous times — when absolute peace was an unknown, even 
an unwished-for blessing — had to furnish its quota of warships 
towards forming a rough and ready kind of naval militia for the 
double purpose of repelling sudden hostile incursions, and of 
carrying the war into the enemy’s quarters. 

Thes-e Cinque Port vessels were only a species of galleys or 
magnified rowboats, and would have appeared altogether in- 
significant alongside the great triremes and still more mighty 
quinqueremes that lashed the sea into foam with their 120 
and 200 oars apiece, respectively, in the days when Imperial 
Rome bore sway. Still these same cock-boats manned by the 
hardy and fearless seadogs of Plantagenet and of Tudor England, 
amphibious heroes, half seaman, half soldier, seem to have 
answered their purpose, and when not employed in their legiti- 
mate business of fighting Frenchmen or Hollanders, were fre- 
quently despatched on private piratical expeditions, the plunder 
so acquired being equitably divided on joint stock principles 
among the co-adventurers. When piracy went out of fashion 
smuggling came in, and the latter soon constituted itself as a 
profitable and exciting medium of speculation among country 
squires and respectable citizens. Dignified Dover aldermen who 
as the administrators of local justice, in their gold chains and 
furred official robes, were in the habit of sentencing with im- 
placable severity petty vulgar thieves to the whipping-post, to 
the pillory, and even to the gallows, were not ashamed to replen- 
ish their own depleted coffers by systematically defrauding the 
revenues of their country. 

At one period Dover held equal rank with Calais (the last 
remnant of the extensive English possession in France) in the 
estimation of the public, and when that latter town was acquired 
by the French, through either the treachery or the supineness of 
its garrison, its loss is said to have hastened the death of Mary 
(the then Queen of England), who is currently reported to have 
exclaimed on hearing of the disaster: “You will find the word 
' Calais ’ engraved on my heart.” Though it is well to bear in 
mind that the authenticity of the dying observations of eminent 
persons is not always to be relied on. 

Dover and Calais, as being the nearest points on the respective 
coasts of England and France, have ever afforded the readiest 
line of intercommunication between the two countries. 

At the date when my story commences, two decades of the 


Arrival of the Calais-Douvre. 


II 


twentieth century had nearly elapsed, but the patriotic prudence 
of the British Government had not yet allowed either a channel 
bridge or a channel tunnel to become an accomplished fact. 

It was a bright and breezy day in the latter part of October, 
Anno Domini, 1920. The waters of the English Channel had not 
as yet recovered from the effects of a recent gale, and a heavy 
cross sea was running, combined with a nasty ground swell, a 
condition of things most fatal to the peace of stomach of those 
unfortunates whose business or pleasure compelled them to trav- 
erse that narrow ocean strait. However, for those on terra 
firma on this fine autumnal day the surroundings were of the 
pleasantest. Looking landwards to the left of one standing 
on the great Dover breakwater, stretches the chalk buttresses 
of Albion shimmering in the bright sunshine, past Folkestone 
pier and Hythe till far away in the distance the eye just catches 
the long jutting out headland of Dungeness that closes the view 
in that direction. The loftiest of these said buttresses, “ Shake- 
speare’s cliff,” almost faces the spectator, its perpendicular sides 
seem to grow straight out of Father Neptune’s domain, and the 
observer, if gifted with keen vision, can recall the famous lines 
in King Lear by detecting the samphire gatherers still pursuing 
their perilous avocation suspended ’twixt sea and sky, looking 
like beetles against the white scarped facie of the ghastly preci- 
pice with the long winged screaming gulls as their sole com- 
panions. In the immediate foreground is the abbreviated Espla- 
nade behind which the town of Dover nestles in an abrupt gorge 
or chasm that breaks the continuity of the precipitous coast line. 

Overlooking the town appears the eminence on the summit 
of which frowns the ancient castle converted into a modern fort- 
ress of portentous strength, while a cluster of masts and funnels 
away to the right denote the presence of that great Safety Harbor 
which took so many years and millions to construct. 

Turning seaward our spectator obtains a fine view of a portion 
of the English Channel. The white crested waves were chasing 
each other merrily in rhythmical order, and from his post at 
the extremity of the massive breakwater he may just discern 
the gleaming coast line of France. 

Coming up fast before the strong southwest breeze with every 
rope and brace taut, every sail, stunsail, and wind-sail in its tow- 
ering pyramids of canvas full and drawing, could be seen a 
great 6,000 ton Dundee five-masted clipper ship, doing her 


12 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

knots in the homestretch of her long run from the Antipodes, 
laden with frozen carcasses of Australian sheep to help to feed 
the toiling millions of the Mother Country. Sailing ships will 
never go quite out of use despite what pessimists may say, and 
the day may be coming when, owing to the increasing cost of 
fuel, the primitive mode of ocean-traversing, by means of sail pro- 
pulsion for long voyages and heavy non-perishable freights, may 
not improbably regain a partial supremacy. 

There are few more inspiring objects in the world than a ship 
in full sail. As an almost living creature of beauty and joy we 
may surely rank her with those other quintescences of comeli- 
ness, a thoroughbred horse, a full-blown rose, and last in order, 
but first in merit, a beautiful girl, in fashioning whom one might 
almost suppose (if it could be said without blaspheming) that the 
master skill of the Supreme Designer had at last reached its limit, 
and certainly one of these miracles of creative evolution was 
standing on this particular day side by side with two female 
companions close to the landing stage of the aforesaid break- 
water, the six eyes of the trio being riveted, not on the sailing 
ship, but on the Dover and Calais steamer that could be seen 
rapidly approaching, giving every now and then, when struck 
amidships by a heavy sea, one of those sickening, wriggling 
squirms, an intricate combination of a roll, a pitch, and a stagger 
that causes those of her passengers who are not gifted with the 
Stomachs of Cossacks or of Esquimaux to feel as if they were 
on the point of leaving behind in the tumbling billows of the main 
their precious immortal souls. 

The girl to whom I have alluded was apparently just out of 
her teens, and was of a decided blond type, as the massy coils of 
her glorious golden chestnut hair, her pink and white complexion 
and soft large violet eyes plainly showed her to be. Blond 
women possess the unfortunate reputation of being vacuous and ' 
doll-like, and to be more sensuous than sensible. If such is the 
case, then the lady whose appearance I am endeavoring to outline 
proved the truth of the rule by being a most brilliant exception 
to it. The smart breeze had blown her Tam-o’-Shanter half off 
her head, and a phrenologist would have had no difficulty in 
pointing out by a glance at her intellectual forehead the outward 
signs of the possession of siich qualities as logic, causality, mem- 
ory, number, music, and decision of character, combined with love 
of justice. 


Arrival of the Calais-Douvre. 


13 


She stood fully five feet eight inches in height, and her im- 
perfectly fitting costume of dark blue serge, evidently the work of 
a clumsy provincial dressmaker, failed altogether to conceal the 
graceful proportions of her exquisitely moulded figure. Though 
a native of the county of Kent, she was no hop pole, and tipped 
the scale at something nearer 150 than 140 pounds. The taper- 
ing fingers of her well-shaped gloveless hands, and the arched 
instep of her small symmetrical feet, proved her to be what she 
indeed was, a thoroughbred. 

Her two companions were each several inches shorter than her- 
self, and though as well, as she was badly dressed, looked only 
commonplace beside her. By themselves they were doubtless 
esteemed good looking. But the worst of mediocrity is that it 
is always liable to be completely thrown into the shade in the 
presence of transcendent merit, as surely as the pale glory of the 
moon is eclipsed at dawn by the efifulgence of the rising sun. 

How I wish I could travel,’' said the shabbily dressed 
beauty, with a deep sigh. How awfully jolly it must be visit- 
ing new countries and observing the manners and customs of 
other nations.” 

“ You had better marry a millionaire, Dora, and then you will 
be able to travel en luxe to your heart’s content,” replied the 
elder of her two companions. 

“ A mighty lot of chance I shall ever have of marrying at all,” 
replied Dora, bitterly. “ You, Rachel, Agatha, and Annie go to 
all the society functions, and have nice frocks and everything you 
want, while I have to put up with any old thing in the shape 
of clothes, and so cannot go to any parties, even if I were allowed 
to. Look at me now, did you ever see such a cheap guy? I am 
ashamd to be seen out of doors. I haven’t a decent frock to my 
name.” 

I am quite shocked at you,” exclaimed Agatha. “ How un- 
grateful, after all that papa has done for you, a poor penniless 
orphan, left to the mercy of the world.” 

This cruel speech brought tears into poor Dora’s eyes. Her 
cousin’s words stabbed her (figuratively speaking) like so many 
stilettos. The coldness of Christian charity is proverbial, but the 
begrudged charity of a relative is away below the zero of the 
spiritual thermometer. 

“ You are perfectly right, Agatha,” said Rachel, sharply. 

Dora must be made to feel her true position. She ought now 


14 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

to be earning her bread as a nursery governess or a school 
teacher, and she does not seem to appreciate papa’s kindness in 
allowing her to remain at home doing nothing.” 

How wicked of you to say so,” said Dora. I would do 
anything to get away and earn my bread if uncle would allow 
me.” 

“ Don’t be so fierce, Dora,” said Agatha, or you will attract 
people’s attention to us. Rachel is wrong; we do not wish to get 
rid of you, but still you must allow that you are a cuckoo in our 
family nest. A very good-looking cuckoo, I frankly admit. If 
you were homely, of course, it would be entirely different ; but we 
girls are not going to have our chances spoiled by you. When we 
do take you anywhere the men all congregate about you like flies 
round a pot of honey and we are left in the cold.” 

“ If that is so,” said Dora, with a ghost of a smile on her fair 
face, in spite of her lacerated feelings, “ I should have supposed 
that all of you would be only too eager to do everything in your 
power to get me married and out of your way.” 

“ And have you triumph over and patronize us ? That would 
not suit our book at all, I assure you, would it, Agatha ? ” said 
Rachel, appealing to her sister. 

Not quite,” replied that young lady. Dora must learn to 
keep her place and be thankful for small mercies. Some day, 
perhaps, her turn may come, who knows.” 

Dora sighed again, but remained silent. There is something 
dreadfully galling to a proud spirit like hers to feel that she is a 
tolerated dependent, a mere nuisance, a superfluous burden, a 
chopping-block for the sarcasm of her female relatives. Some 
women when they have the power can be dreadfully cruel to 
those of their own sex whom they hate and envy, especially if the 
objects of their malice are not in a position to return scorn for 
scorn. The spiteful innuendo and the cutting sneer are the weap- 
ons these she-bullies have frequent recourse to, and they are apt to 
give moral wounds that are harder to bear and slower to cicatrize 
and heal than those fleshly injuries inflicted by blow of fist or lash 
of whip. 

Meanwhile the Channel steamer having plowed its way 
through the short chopping waves had arrived within the shelter 
of the great breakwater and was soon moored alongside the land- 
ing stage with a full complement of passengers, most of whom 
appeared to be more or less the wors^ for their spell Qf tossing, 


Arrival of the Calais-Douvre. 13 

Many a traveler who has crossed and recrossed again and again 
the broad Atlantic in magnificent ocean liners with impunity suc- 
cumbs to the sudden attack of that pitiless demon mal-de-mer in 
traversing that miserable little ditch, the English Channel. It is 
one of the principal pleasures of the well-to-do inhabitants of 
Dover to repair to the breakwater in order to witness the arrival 
of the Channel boats, especially when there is a bit of a lip on 
the sea. There really seems to be inherent in human nature a 
capacity for taking secret pleasure in witnessing or hearing of 
the sufferings or misfortunes of others. 

Of course, we should be ashamed to confess to such a piece of 
malignant egoism, or of experiencing feelings of relief and of sat- 
isfaction at having escaped the ills that flesh is heir to, and which 
are afflicting our neighbors ; but though we may strive to suppress 
them, these feelings do really exist nevertheless, and the lucky 
ones in our midst are perpetually congratulating themselves that 
they are not continually (metaphorically speaking) barking their 
shins and tearing their clothes against the sharp stones and thorns 
of financial and other troubles that always seem to be besetting 
the life paths of their less fortunate acquaintances. Human 
nature is a very distorted affair ; but the worst of it is that we are 
told in the writings of that Apostle, the best beloved of his Divine 
Master of all the twelve (I refer to the Revelations of St. John, 
in which it is said), that one of the pleasures of the saved will be 
in company of the Holy Angels witnessing the torments of the 
damned. In the face of such transcendent authority we must not 
blame too censoriously the crowd of idle folk (among whom were 
the three young ladies above referred to), who assembled on this 
fine October morning to see the Calais boat come in. Among her 
passengers standing near the gangway ready to land was a stal- 
* wart looking young man, who seemed totally unaffected by the 
short sea tumbling he had just experienced. He was clad in a 
suit of Scotch tweed with a Norfolk jacket and Fedora hat, and 
as the steamboat came alongside the landing place was engaged 
in surveying the throng on the breakwater through a pair of large 
field-glasses. He had the air of a traveler who had been in many 
climes and was, in slang parlance, a globe-trotter. He might 
even have been taken for a British army officer returning from 
India via Brindisi, if it had not been for certain patent character- 
istics that undoubtedly stamped him as a citizen of the great 
North American Republic. 


i6 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

The three young ladies I have . referred to were posted near 
the gangway, up which the travelers, many of them looking very 
cheap and woe-begone, were passing in single file from the deck 
of the steamer. These were mostly tourists who had been wan- 
dering for purposes of health, rest, or pleasure over the sunny 
plains of France, or the beautiful mountain passes of Switzerland, 
and the Tyrol, along the picturesque valleys of the Rhine and the 
Danube, or through the quaint old cities of Germany and Hol- 
land. Though in their several ways these voyagers may have 
enjoyed themselves or fostered the fond belief that they had 
done so, still I have no doubt that there were few persons in that 
long procession but in their heart of hearts were very content, 
whether English or American (and there were quite a number of 
the latter), that they were once more setting their feet on a land 
where perfect freedom reigns supreme, where nearly every one 
speaks plain English (very plain and ungrammatical at times) 
and where they can indulge in food and drink congenial to their 
Anglo-Saxon tastes to replace the Gallic provender that so many 
of them had just consigned to the vasty deep. They seemed 
naturally eager to hustle ashore and escape the rude staring looks 
and invidious criticism of the unfeeling spectators. 

As the young American in his turn landed on British soil he 
gazed around him with a half smiling, half defiant look on his 
tanned resolute face that seemed to say : “ Here I am, you Brit- 
ishers, with never a qualm of sea-sickness, you bet.” His eyes 
met those of Dora and he was manifestly attracted, as when he 
had passed, he turned round twice and scrutinized her in a very 
marked manner, which caused her to blush and cast down her 
man-killing organs of vision. 

“Dora, you have made a conquest,” said Agatha, in a low 
voice. 

“ It is a clear case,” exclaimed Rachel, laughing merrily. “ He 
is certainly a Yankee, perhaps a millionaire pork packer’s son 
doing Europe. He is hit pretty hard. See, Agatha, he is look- 
ing back once more.” 

Poor Dora sighed, but did not vouchsafe any reply to the bad- 
inage of her two cousins. There was something about the young 
man that appealed to her susceptibilities, and an indefinable long- 
ing to see him again arose in the girl’s heart. She instinctively 
realized that here was a real live man, and not a mere flirting, 
idling, cigarette-smoking tailor’s dummy. Those few swift 


Arrival of the Calais-Doiivre, 17 

mutual glances had exchanged as if by a species of wireless tele- 
pathic telegraphy a volume of messages, and perhaps ineffaceable 
impressions had been established on both sides. Anyway, Dora 
was distrait and silent as she and her cousins strolled slowly back 
to the railway station, and she did not exchange half a dozen 
perfunctory sentences with either of her companions all the way 
to their destination, which was the ancient Cathedral city of Can- 
terbury, where she resided with her uncle, aunt, and three cousins. 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


i8 


CHAPTER II. 

DORA STARTS A BIBLE CLASS. 

Dora Leighton was, as mentioned in the previous chapter, an 
orphan. Her father had been a Major in an English Infantry 
regiment. When he had just obtained his company he had run 
away with and married the youngest daughter of a poor but 
aristocratically connected family, whose residence was in the 
neighborhood of York, at which city the battalion to which he 
belonged was quartered, when he met and fell in love with the 
young lady at a hunt ball. She was at the time of her marriage 
to Captain Leighton engaged to an old but very rich retired man- 
ufacturer. Mrs. Leighton’s relatives, who were hoping to mend 
their somewhat broken fortunes by her making a wealthy alliance, 
were profoundly indignant and refused to see her, or, in fact, to 
hold any further communication with her. Misfortune seemed 
to dog the steps of the imprudent couple, and the Captain man- 
aged soon after the marriage to lose nearly all the remnant of his 
patrimony that had survived his ante-nuptial extravagance, in an 
unlucky speculation. Still, in spite of this sad reverse, they man- 
aged to jog along somehow and to be very happy considering all 
things, and their domestic horizon seemed to be brightening all 
around when the Captain gained his regimental majority, but 
soon after this auspicious event, like a bolt from the blue, the cup 
of happiness was rudely dashed from his lips. His extremely 
beautiful wife contracted typhoid fever, and, to her adoring hus- 
band’s infinite sorrow, died after a short illness. She left one 
child, a little girl, the heroine of this story. Major Leighton, 
heart-broken at his loss, and wishing to make some provision for 
his daughter, three years after his wife’s death, exchanged into an 
Indian native regiment and was immediately sent to the frontier, 
where he met with a hero’s death in leading an attack on a hill 
fort. 

On his departure for the East he left his young daughter to 


Dora Starts A Bible Class. 


19 


the care of his only brother, a clergyman in prosperous circum- 
stances who had taken as much pains in husbanding his private 
fortune as his soldier brother had in squandering his. The parson, 
who several years previous to the time when my story begins had 
been made a Canon of Canterbury Cathedral, received his niece, 
little Dora, into his family circle with considerable reluctance. 
But he hoped that his profligate relative would find both fame 
and fortune in the Indies and return home to relieve him of the 
cost of the child’s maintenance. The news, therefore, of the 
Major’s death was a sad blow to the parsimonious cleric, who, 
finding that the deceased warrior had left nothing but an honor- 
able name and his blessing to his poor child, was confronted with 
the necessity of adopting, feeding, clothing, and educating the 
little orphan girl. 

Dora was made to feel every day of her life that she was prac- 
tically subsisting on charity. As time went on and she grew 
more and more to be a beautiful replica of her dead mother, her 
uncle’s feelings gradually softened towards her, and he hoped that 
she might retrieve matters by making a brilliant match. Not so 
the Canon’s wife, and certainly two of his daughters. The former 
harbored a bitter resentment against her niece by marriage for 
throwing (by her extreme beauty) her own daughters into the 
shade, and the daughters themselves became dreadfully jealous 
of their lovely cousin, and kept her in the background as much 
as they possibly could, and seeing that their male parent was 
inclined to be more kind and considerate to poor Dora, did all 
they could to place her in as bad a light as possible in his presence, 
and to abuse her openly to his face. The consequence was that 
the unfortunate girl generally got hold of the wrong end of the 
stick, and was really nothing but a Cinderella. 

It must in common justice be said that Annie, the youngest 
Miss Leighton, did not support her sisters and mother in their 
j systematic persecution of the poor girl, and sometimes even went 
so far as to take her part, but generally she assumed an entirely 
neutral position and left Dora to fight her own battles. The 
Reverend Arthur Leighton was what may be called (using an 
ecclesiastical term) a pluralist, since in addition to his Canonry 
he was the incumbent of an important living in the ancient city 
of Canterbury, the capital of the fair county of Kent, which is 
famous for the excellence of its hops, cherries and the superlative 
beauty of its women. 


20 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Dora had been brought up within the shadow (so to speak) of 
the Cathedral, which is so majestic, so historic, and so replete 
with multitudinous human interest. It stands on the site of the 
old-time Minster, built by the pious Ethelbert, Saxon king of 
Kent, the first to receive the holy rite of baptism from the hands 
of Saint Augustine when that renowned missionary and his little 
band of pioneer monks bravely risked their lives among the 
savage conquerors of the Britons and laid the foundations of that 
English Church which, like a goodly tree, has since spread its 
luxuriant branches into the most distant lands and of which the 
Episcopal Church of the United States of America is a well- 
favored offshoot. 

Mr. Leighton, as an influential member of the Cathedral chap- 
ter, an eloquent preacher, and an ardent, if somewhat shallow, 
controversialist, wielded considerable authority within the circle in 
which he moved. The society of an English cathedral city is 
invariably separated into three distinct divisions distinguished by 
well defined gradations. 

The Cathedral set is composed of the greater church dignitaries 
to which are allied the leading county families. These two sub- 
sections are on an equal social footing. Then come the lesser 
clergy and the inferior local gentry, and below these again rank 
the superior city merchants and tradesmen. Through these three 
strata, which constitute a social filtering bed, sink down the stories 
of local gossip and local scandal, which in a semi-somnolent, easy- 
going community with not too much to do, and less to think about, 
constitute an ephemeral excitement, which, while forming a com- 
mon bond of union between the classes, prevents an unhealthy stag- 
nation of ideas. Mr. Leighton was well off financially, and, 
though very close, not to say stingy, lived in fair style. He was 
technically speaking, religious, and though a broad churchman, 
was an uncompromising puritan, and consequently was deficient 
in that spirit of boundless charity which was one of the most 
distinguishing characteristics of his Divine Master. He ruled his 
household with a rod of iron ; was a big burly man with a loud 
strident voice, that grated on the ear like the sound of a blunt 
buzz-saw that is minus some of its teeth. He was fairly good 
natured, but inclined to be a bully, peace reigned within his walls, 
but it was the fallacious calm of suppressed individuality. His 
timid little will-less wife obeyed him like an automation. His 
three daughters (he had no son) tried to exhaust their fettered 


Dora Starts A Bible Class. 


21 


energies in perfunctory visits to the poor, in ineffably dull tea- 
parties, in elaborating useless articles of wood, or wool work, for 
sale at church fairs, and in the most invertebrate featureless flirt- 
ings with the officers of the neighboring cavalry camp. The only 
one of his household who occasionally showed that she possessed 
an independent soul of her own was his niece Dora, who, though 
snubbed and brow-beaten on every available occasion, had yet 
a latent will of her own and showed it occasionally. I don’t say 
that her comparatively plain cousins actually ill-treated her, but 
nevertheless they systematically sat upon and tried to extinguish; 
her in turn. They took as of their right all the loaves and fishes,, 
though the former might be unleavened and the latter not bigger 
than minnows. In other words, they went to all the balls and! 
parties, such as they were, and poor Dora stayed at home and 
pined like a caged bird for liberty, and had to alter her relatives* 
old dresses to fit her more shapely figure. Her cousins dreaded 
Dora’s competition and noticed with consternation how easily 
she attracted in shoals to her side the eligible young men on the • 
last occasion she was allowed to appear in public during the 
annual cricket festival. The two elder sisters had become some- 
what soured from want of matrimonial success, and their parents’ 
well-meant efforts to find them suitable partners had seemed hith- 
erto only to prove abortive failures. This stunted life made Dora 
(who read and thought a great deal) long to taste of the innocent 
pleasures of the great world. She spent a deal of time either 
in her bed-room, in the cloisters, or in the Cathedral itself; she 
loved history, not the dry skeleton, the bones of which are com- 
posed of uncertain dates and of barren statistics ; no, she tried to 
think of the great epoch-making men and women, as live creatures 
like herself, with the same impulses, failings, and aspirations.. 
One day, early in the fall of the year in which my story begins, , 
and about a week after the event described in the last chapter, she ' 
was strolling aimlessly down the glorious nave of the Cathedral, 
when she encountered a gentleman who was gazing at the splendid ' 
designs of the West Rose window. She recognized him as the • 
young man she had seen at Dover. He raised his hat and im- 
mediately with the utmost sang-froid started a conversation. 

'' Pardon me, miss, speaking to you, I saw you last week as ; 
I landed from the steamer. I guess those pictures in that window 
are taken from the Bible, but I never read the Bible. I was raised . 


22 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

out West, we had to hustle, I can tell you, and hadn’t much time 
for education or frills of that sort.” 

How dreadful, thought Dora, to whom the idea of any decent 
person growing to maturity without having had any religious 
instruction seemed to her to be an impossible state of things, but 
she replied : 

“ Perhaps you lost your mother when very young, sir? ” 

“ No, miss ; my mother lived till I was quite old. But you see 
she was cooking, sewing, washing, or mending our clothes all the 
time. We lived on a ranch in California, on the Sacramento 
River, and pa made us all work like white niggers. I had two 
brothers, but Huck got corpsed in a mix-up with a bar, and Joe 
didn’t pull his gun quick enough in a poker game in Sante Fe 
City. They were a deal older than me; my pa is a dead game 
sport, I can tell you, but I like coming to see a big church like 
this. It’s a bully place and no mistake. I never was a church 
member, but the preachers must have an elegant time of it and 
must rake in a pretty powerful pile of dollars I guess.” 

Dora looked at her companion in astonishment, she could only 
surmise the meaning of some of his language. He was a fine 
athletic looking young fellow, almost handsome, well dressed and 
shapely, apparently about thirty years of age, with that free in- 
dependent air men acquire who live in a spacious country, and 
have had to make their own way untrammeled by the inherited 
prejudices of a hoary civilization. But somehow she felt at- 
tracted, just as she had been the day she first set eyes on him. 
In her narrow and restricted existence there was so little novelty 
and so little variety, life to her had been hitherto so dull and 
commonplace, that any break in its monotony, however trifling, 
was as welcome as the flowers in the spring. She said rather tim- 
idly : “ I live close by here, sir, and know every stone in the 

place; would you allow me to show you round? I might be of 
service in pointing out some of the interesting spots and relics of 
a bygone age.” 

He signified his complete satisfaction in having found so 
pretty and charming a guide, so he followed her about and she 
showed to the young American the grooves in the stone steps, 
worn by the knees of countless medieval pilgrims to the shrine 
of St. Thomas a Becket, and she told him all about that bold, tur- 
bulent, yet patriotic prelate, and she pointed out too the rusty 
suit of armor that was worn (so tradition sav) by Edward the 


Dora Starts A Bible Class. 


23 


Black Prince at the battle of Poictiers, and the altar on the 
steps of which Becket was murdered by De Tracy and his com- 
panions ; the beautiful Lady Chapel, the Saxon Church in the 
crypt; the Chapter House, and many interesting tombs of Cru- 
saders. And she gave him lots of information about architec- 
ture and Archbishops, and finished up by saying that Canter- 
bury was the second longest cathedral in England, Norwich being 
the first. 

“ Great snakes,” exclaimed the American, you are clean 
stuffed full of learning; my pa would be a kind of chirpy and 
have a swelled head if I knew only a little bit of what you do. 
Here is my card, miss, I am staying at the Fleur de Lis Hotel, 
may I meet you here to-morrow at the same time ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” replied Dora, “ I shall be very glad to and you 
can tell me all about the great West, and I will talk to you about 
England.” 

“ You are the nicest girl I guess I have met with on this side,” 
replied the Californian. “ I only came over here for a little 
vacation and am quite poor.” 

Dora thought it was rather strange if he were quite poor that 
he could afford to be passing his time in travel, still that was not 
her business. When he was gone she looked at the visiting card 
he had given her. On this was engraved, “ Mr. James Fletcher, 
San Francisco, California, U. S. A.” 

When Dora had returned home she related her encounter with 
the young stranger. 

“ He is some low adventurer,” said her eldest cousin, and I 
am sure is no fit acquaintance for a young lady. Don’t you agree 
with me, pa ? ” 

“You are quite right, Rachel,” replied her father. “ The young 
man must be a perfect Godless pagan; it is awful to think that 
there are men like him in a civilized country — in a worse spiritual 
condition then the poor Heathen. I forbid you, Dora, to speak 
to that man again.” 

Dora was sorry she had mentioned anything about him, but 
determined not to tamely yield without a fight, so she said: 

“ It may be, uncle, that this poor benighted young savage has 
been thrown in my way in order that I may be the means, under 
God, of leading him to the light of the Gospel.” 

“ You had better join the Salvation Army and become a Halle- 
lujah lass,” sneered Agatha, her second cousin. “ It is a danger- 


24 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

ous thing for a young woman like you to usurp the prerogatives 
of a minister, and endeavor to convert hardened men,” said the 
Canon. “ Many a girl’s virtue and happiness have been irretriev- 
ably ruined in such quixotic attempts ; beware, my child, of unprin- 
cipled, designing profligates, who go about like wolves in sheep’s 
clothing, seeking innocents like you to devour.” 

“ I think it is a shame and most uncharitable to call any one 
unprincipled without proof,” replied Dora defiantly. She felt 
more than ever inclined to champion the young American. 

“ Surely a man must be unprincipled who has never even read 
the Bible,” said Agatha, a very devout hysterical young lady. 

“ Were Socrates, Plato, Seneca, Cato, Marcus Aurelius, and all 
the virtuous ancients unprincipled? They never saw the Bible,” 
retorted Dora quite fiercely. She had turned to bay at last and 
was confronting her hard, unsympathetic uncle and her two nag- 
ging, jealous cousins (Annie was not present). 

“ Where did you get such ideas from ? ” said the Canon, indig- 
nantly. “ Not under my roof, I am sure; I am quite shocked at 
such sentiments.” 

The worthy man was obliged to have recourse to vague generali- 
ties and frothy reproof, as he felt quite unable to refute what Dora 
had just stated. 

“ I respect and reverence the Bible as much as you do, uncle,” 
said Dora, firmly, “ but I cannot help feeling that it is a very 
dangerous book to place in the hands of ignorant or prejudiced 
persons. Look at all the ancient schisms in the Church. See 
how the pages of history are stained with the blood of innocents, 
slain by conscientious interpreters of the Bible. Think of the 
horrors of the Spanish Inquisition and of the Scotch Kirk, and 
lastly, think of the thousands of poor wretches who have been 
burnt at the stake as witches in the name of the Gospel, all on ac- 
count of a saying in Leviticus, attributed to Moses, which no one 
can prove he ever wrote or uttered.” 

There was silence in the room for a few moments, every one 
was so taken aback by this sudden uprising of the hitherto quiet 
and unobtrusive girl. Dora expected a storm, and her cousins 
were waiting to hear the thunder of ecclesiastical anathema poured 
on the devoted head of the heretic. They were much surprised, 
therefore, to hear their awful parent quietly observe : 

“You had better go to your room and calm yourself, you are 
over-excited. As for that young man, if you meet him again you 


Dora Starts A Bible Class. 25 

can invite him here, and I will endeavor to point out to him the 
error of his ways.’’ 

The bully was beaten, and the reason he had bullied so long 
was because he had encountered no opposition. He felt that he 
was no match for Dora in argument. He also secretly sympa- 
thized wth her outspoken opinions. When Dora had left the 
room the Canon very sarcastically observed : 

“ I was obliged to get rid of her for fear of injury to your 
weak minds. The fact is, Dora is as superior to either of you two 
girls in brains as she is in beauty.” 

It is useless to try to depict the deep-seated sense of injury 
and of impotent rage engendered in the minds of the sisters 
by this cynical, but true, remark of their father’s, but from that 
moment they entered silently into an offensive and defensive alli- 
ance against their unfortunate cousin. I have detailed the above 
passage of tongues, because it formed a distinct epoch in Dora’s 
life, and each day she was made to feel more acutely that her home 
was becoming unbearable for her. Strange to say, her uncle now 
rather sided with her against her malicious cousins, and it seemed 
that he was only just beginning to appreciate her worth. Dora 
kept her appointment with the young American and took him home 
and introduced him to her family. Though Mr. Fletcher’s educa- 
tion had been neglected, he was evidently very shrewd and well 
versed in the ways of the world. He came frequently to the 
vicarage. Dora’s cousins made themselves agreeable to him, as 
they wished him to marry her and to take her away as soon as 
possible. The Canon, on the contrary, was afraid of throwing his 
beautiful niece away on a mere unknown stranger, as he had 
begun to regard her in the light of a hitherto hidden treasure. He 
sounded the religious convictions of young Fletcher and found that 
he possessed none to speak of, though the Californian acknowl- 
edged to having read of the fish story, as he called the sacred 
anecdote of Jonah and the whale, in a New York Sunday paper, 
and also of having heard of several other remarkable Old Testa- 
ment miracles, which he pronounced to be rather slim. So the 
Canon abandoned the task of Christianizing this wild Westerner 
in despair. But meanwhile Dora was beginning to have a vast 
influence for good on the young man’s character : he came regu- 
larly to the Cathedral service every Sunday morning, and in the 
afternoon Dora -and he actually fixied up a little private Sunday- 
school, in which the former was the teacher and the latter the soli- 


26 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

tary scholar, and Dora reported to her uncle the satisfactory prog- 
ress her pupil was making in religious knowledge. Young 
Fletcher came in and out of the vicarage of his own free will 
and was looked upon by the family as Dora’s young man. In fact, 
matters at length came to a crisis ; as the couple were walking one 
fine afternoon in the cloisters, he abruptly asked her to be his wife, 
and was promptly accepted. But there were several unexplained ^ 
mysteries about Mr. Fletcher which the Canon naturally required 
to be cleared up before he could sanction the engagement. The 
first one was that Fletcher’s mail was forwarded to him under 
cover from London ; again, he always represented himself as very 
poor, but he sometimes seemed to forget his protestations of pov- 
erty as he occasionally deluged Dora and her cousins with quite 
valuable presents, but he always evaded the Canon’s inquiries 
concerning the extent of his means. Also he never referred to 
his relatives in California. The Canon plainly told him (as it 
was his duty to do) that everything must be aboveboard; that he, 
Fletcher, must make an adequate marriage settlement on his 
(the Canon’s) niece and be open and frank about himself. But 
though he appeared to be deeply attached to Dora, he did not seem 
in a hurry to set himself right in the eyes of her uncle, though en- 
treated by him to do so, when an event occurred that brought mat- 
ters to a violent and unlooked-for conclusion, and this event shall 
form the subject of the next chapter. 


Left Behind. 


27 


CHAPTER III. 

LEFT BEHIND. 

Time does not stand still ; some of us who are on the downward 
grade of life sometimes wish it did, but it rolls on relentlessly with 
disgusting regularity. He had not stood still with our two lovers, 
who found themselves on the second Saturday of the New Year 
involved in a winter picnic party the Leightons had got up for the 
purpose of crossing over to La Belle France, and making (as the 
saying is,) a day of it. The weather was bright and fine at first, 
and the crowd arrived in high spirits at Calais on board one of 
the fast Channel boats that ply between that French town and 
Dover. The party got separated in exploring the curious old 
place that used in olden times to be one of the brightest jewels 
in the English crown. Fletcher and Dora, engrossed in each 
other's society, lost count of the passage of time, and when they 
returned to the jetty they found, to their horror, that the steamer 
with the party on board had left for Dover. Their absence had 
not been noticed, Dora's cousins supposing that she and Fletcher 
were somewhere about the boat. By this time a strong northeast 
wind had arisen, and it gave prospect of being a very dirty night. 
Dora was dreadfully distressed and Fletcher, in his anxiety, made 
all sorts of extravagant offers to fishermen to obtain a boat to 
sail across the Channel, but in vain. The rough Frenchman hardly 
understood him, as neither he nor Dora knew much French, and 
they thought he was crazy. By this time it was dark and a big sea 
was running. As a last resource Fletcher tried to persuade with 
a large bribe the commander of a French torpedo boat to run 
him and Dora across. The French officer said that the rules of 
the service forbade him, but was deeply sorry that he could not 
oblige the American. 

“ Well, darling," said Fletcher, “ I guess we are in a tight 
place." 

Poor Dora hereupon burst into tears, and said ; 


28 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

What shall I do, dear Jim ? My horrid relatives will say that 
we missed the boat on purpose.’' 

The American coolly replied : “ Wal, I guess the best thing for 
us to do is to go right on to Paris by the night train and get 
married soon.” 

After another burst of tears, she said : “ I am yours, darling. 
I trust myself in your hands, do as you think proper. It is quite 
certain that my folks will give me no mercy if we go back home.” 

They took the night train to Paris, and Dora wired to her uncle 
next morning that they had been married. But this was not true. 
Fletcher asked her as an immense favor to allow the ceremony to 
stand over till they arrived in New York, as he said he had a 
great desire to have it performed in Old Trinity Church, Broad- 
way, where some of his ancestors used to worship. He confided 
to her that Fletcher was an assumed name, and that he would 
not tell her his real one till the day they were legally united. He 
admitted it was only a crank idea of his, but beseeched her to 
humor him thus far. Poor Dora was so completely in his power 
that she had to give her consent, with many tears and much fear 
and trembling to this foolish and, as it might be to her, most dan- 
gerous scheme, but she had perfect confidence in her lover’s honor 
and fidelity, and after all it was only a very short time to wait 
before they would be legally man and wife. On their arrival in 
Paris they went to the Hotel Normandie, a quiet but good house, 
where they were not likely to meet acquaintances. Next day while 
seated at a very substantial breakfast (in France this is a midday 
meal), which the two lovers were thoroughly enjoving, a look 
of horror overspread Dora’s face as she exclaimed, “ How much 
money have you got, darling ? ” at the same time feverishly search- 
ing her little purse, producing a half sovereign, two shillings and 
a sixpence, whch she laid on the table and looked in her lover’s 
face with an anxious expression. 

“ Oh, about fifty francs,” replied Fletcher carelessly, helping 
himself as he spoke from a ragout aux truffes opposite to him. 
“ This is precious good stuflf, let me give you some, darling. 
What do they call these little brown things ? I always forget.” 

“ They are truffles, I believe,” replied Dora. “ They hunt for 
them with pigs in Perigord, as I learnt at school. But, darling, 
you haven’t answered my question ; what are* we to do with no 
money, or next to none?” 

“ Don’t alarm yourself, pet,” replied Jim, laughing. Have you 


Left Behind. 


29 


never heard of letters of credit? We will fro to Rothschilds’ after 
breakfast and do a little business there. They call a man a mil- 
lionaire here who has a beggarly million francs. I will just get 
that sum from them and let you handle it for fun.” 

“A million francs, dear?” replied Dora with astonishment; 
“ what an enormous sum ! ” And to her with her modest little an- 
nual allowance of twenty pounds — or one hundred dollars a year 
— which her uncle had been in the habit of giving her, and on 
which she had to dress and try to look nice, such a sum as $200,000 
seemed a limitless fortune. Continuing, she said: 

“ And you told me you were so poor, and I hated to receive 
presents from you. Of course, I loved you to give them, darling, 
but I, and we all for the matter of that, thought you could not 
afford to pay for them, and now you talk of a million francs as 
if it were nothing.” 

Fletcher smiled and said : “ I will tell you now the reason I 
had for concealing my name and pretending to be poor. I had 
made up my mind to marry an English girl and one who loved me 
for my own self. I did not want some one to marry me for my 
dollars, so you see, my pet, my scheme has panned out admirably 
well. I am an absurdly lucky fellow, and have won as my own 
the very sweetest and loveliest girl in that foggy little island across 
the Channel.” 

“ You are quite a modern Haroun A1 Raschid, dear,” replied 
Dora, with a loving glance at her Jim, “ but now, my noble Amer- 
ican prince, please tell your handmaiden your real name, now that 
you are assured of her love.” 

“ Trust me a little longer, dear,” replied he. “ But that reminds 
me that after our visit to the Hebrew financiers we will make 
tracks for Worth’s, and get you rigged out right up to G, and 
change Cinderella into a first-class princess.” 

“ Oh, won’t that be lovely,” said Dora, clapping her hands in 
ecstasy. “ I never had a really nice frock in my life, and had 
sometimes to wear my cousins’ old ones. I wonder you took a 
fancy to me, Jim, in my shabby clothes. I am quite ashamed to 
be seen at all in this wretched apology for a dress that I have on.” 

“ You would look lovely in sackcloth and ashes, darling, but 
you will be quite too too when rigged up to the nines in silks and 
velvets. I confess I love to see a handsome woman well dressed,” 
replied Jim. 

Soon after they sallied out and took a cab and drove to the 


30 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

sequestered office of Messrs. Rothschild — I say sequestered, as the 
great Paris firm carry on their vast business in an old-fashioned 
house, in the courtyard of which large plane trees spread their 
cool, shadowing branches, and in the center splashes the water of 
an antique fountain. When they had entered the courtyard Jim 
alighted at the door of the bank and told Dora to wait in the 
cab, as he had some private business to do first. After about 
twenty minutes had elapsed he returned and conducted Dora up- 
stairs to a private room, furnished in a plain and solid manner. 
They were shortly joined by a fine handsome looking man of 
middle age, and of a decided Jewish caste of countenance, to whom 
Jim introduced Dora as his wife, Mrs. Fletcher. Then Jim 
handed to Dora a wad of bank bills, saying as he did so, “ You 
have now in your hands, darling, one million francs, which belong 
to you, but I dare say you do not want to carry around with you 
so large a sum, so you had better give them back to this gentleman, 
who is one of the firm of Messrs. Rothschild. I have to-day de- 
posited in your name, Dora Fletcher, the sum of five million 
francs, or one million dollars. This gentleman will require your 
signature.” 

Hardly knowing what she was doing, Dora handed back the 
wad of bills to the banker, and then wrote the name Dora Fletcher 
in a large book. Mon. Rothschild produced and handed to her 
check and bank books. On the first page of the latter, on the credit 
side, appeared the figures 5,000,000 francs. “ Now, dear,” said 
Jim, “ you can draw a check for say a thousand francs ; that is as 
much as you will want as pocket money while you are in Paris, as 
I shall, of course, pay for everything. This is just to give you a 
lesson in check drawing.” 

Dora had never drawn a check before, and had to be shown 
the way to do it. When she had completed filling in the document 
and had signed her name, the banker handed her a bill for 1,000 
francs of the Bank of France. Having completed the business, 
the financier courteously bade his clients adieu, and Dora took 
Jim’s arm and descended the old carved oak staircase and emerged 
into the courtyard, and were in time once more landed at their 
hotel. Dora felt still in a dream as she sank overcome with 
mental exhaustion into an armchair. “ Now,” said Jim, “ my dar- 
ling, I feel a little more easy. In case I should die before we are 
married in New York, you, at least, will be provided for in a sort 
of fashion.” 


Left Behind. 


31 


A sort of fashion, Jim ; why, you have given me a huge for- 
tune, but it is too much, I never could want so much money. 
Beside, my dear, you are not going to die.” 

“ But, my pet,” replied Jim, ‘‘ it is just as well to provide against 
accidents, life is uncertain, and now I shall feel much more com- 
fortable, though I have not done a quarter what I intend to do 
for you. I have no mother, brother, or sister, only an old aunt 
and a father, one of the best a man ever had. He gave me ten 
million dollars before I left for Europe, as he said he wished me 
to be independent of him. I have only given you, my darling, 
one million of those dollars, so I haven’t really done much, and 
will do a whole pile more when we are spliced. Besides this, 
Dora, it is only right I should trust you right along as you have 
done me. This money is absolutely yours ; you could leave me if 
you wished and return to your friends, but you have trusted me 
and I shall trust you in return, that’s a square deal.” 

“ Oh, Jim,” cried the sweet girl, springing up and throwing her 
arms round his neck, ‘‘ I could never leave you as long as life 
lasts. If you abandon me I shall kill myself.” 

“ Then I calculate, my beauty, we are pretty well froze together, 
and now, pet, it is time we started for Worth’s to get you a proper 
outfit.” 

“ I am quite ashamed to go dressed as I am,” said Dora nerv- 
ously. 

That need not trouble you, darling; I shall say that we have 
just come from a journey. Besides, you look just what you are, 
thoroughbred all over.” 

Several (to Dora) delightful hours were spent that afternoon 
at the celebrated Parisian modiste’s, and a gorgeous trousseau, fit 
for a princess, was ordered and several readv-made costumes that 
had been returned by customers, and fitted Dora pretty well, were 
sent to the hotel for her immediate use, with a magnificent collec- 
tion of costly lingerie, besides a plentiful supply of hats, gloves, 
shoes, etc., and then a move was made to a jeweler, to get a small 
quantity of ornaments, though Dora refused to accept any very 
valuable presents in this line till after the marriage had taken 
place. When they had got through with the jeweler, they returned 
to the hotel and Dora wrote to her uncle to tell him how happy 
she was, but added that they were starting immediately for the 
States, as her husband had important business there, and so she 
was afraid that they would be unable visit Canterbury, but she 


32 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

hoped that when they had been to San Francisco and had seen 
Jim’s father that they would shortly after revisit Old England. 
Dora got Jim also to write a letter to her uncle which she dic- 
tated, explaining how the Calais contretemps had occurred, and 
affirming that it was a pure accident, and that he loved his dear, 
sweet wife devotedly, and that his one aim would be to make her 
the best of husbands, concluding by saying that he was very 
wealthy and begging to enclose a check for four thousand pounds ; 
one thousand was to be for the Canon’s church, and the balance 
to be divided equally among his three daughters. 

“ That check will smooth matters,” said Dora, which it did 
most effectually, as both she and Jim received the most pleasant 
replies of congratulation and profuse thanks from the various 
members of Dora’s family — such is the magical power of money. 
I may add that Jim had wired that morning to Canterbury to have 
all his things sent to the Hotel Normandie. 

The happy pair spent a delightful time in Paris. Dora had 
never been there, and what more charming place to while away the 
first part of a honeymoon in ? Still, they only lingered by the banks 
of the Seine until all Dora’s clothes were ready, and then they 
hied them for a few days to the metropolis of the British Empire. 
While there they stayed at Claridge’s Hotel. Jim invested in a 
choice selection of furs, some jewelry, and knickknacks for Doia, 
and then it was time to make for Liverpool, to board the White 
Star liner, “ The Gigantic,” en route for the West. Each day the 
pair became more and more deeply attached to each other, and 
Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher excited the liveliest interest among the rest 
of the saloon passengers as a devoted married couple on their 
honeymoon trip. Dora’s extreme beauty, now embellished by its 
appropriate setting of handsome clothes, combined with her native 
grace and charm of manner, made her par excellence the queen 
of the boat, and when at the ship’s concert she sang with exquisite 
taste and good execution (considering that her fine mezzo soprano 
voice was to a great extent uncultivated), Molloy’s pathetic ballad. 
Darby and Joan, the song was twice encored and the fair singer 
cheered to the echo. Even a hardened old professional gambler, 
who had won a considerable sum from Jim Fletcher at poker dur- 
ing the voyage, was touched to the heart, repented, and subscribed 
one hundred dollars of his plunder to the concert fund. Fletcher’s 
love and admiration for his Dora increased to the verge of idolatry, 
and it was always with a troubled and guilty conscience that he 


Left Behind. 


33 


left her in the ship's drawing-room, for an hour or so a day, while 
he indulged in his favorite game of poker, for to what true West- 
ern American hasn’t the national card game an invincible attrac- 
tion? Dora tried hard to persuade him to quit playing, and he 
promised solemnly that he would do so directly they were mar- 
ried, and with this assurance she was obliged to be content. She 
felt certain that he would keep his word. Amid all the roughness, 
eccentricities, and crudities engendered by the wild life he had led 
on the plains, she was beginning to discover the sterling traits in 
his character. It required a moral cyanide process like a whole- 
hearted love to extract the pure gold from the dross of his char- 
acter. He was the soul of honor, brave as a lion, at the same 
time as gentle as a lamb, at least to her, and Dora felt that it would 
be her grateful task to use her influence with him to smooth the 
inequalities of his untrained disposition, and to supply the deficien- 
cies of his education. The refining effect that the intimate society 
with a true lady will have on a man is very remarkable if the seed 
falls on good kindly soil, and already Fletcher began to feel 
disgust at merely listening to the indecent and ribald language 
of gamblers and saloon birds. Neither Dora nor her husband 
found any of their friends nor acquaintances on board; it was 
not likely that she would encounter any ; and before taking the 
tickets he had artfully examined the list of saloon passengers, as 
he did not wish to run across any pals while he was traveling with 
Dora under an assumed name ; but it made him uncomfortable, and 
he regretted that he had not, while in London, thrown off all dis- 
guises and boldly been married in his true name. He realized 
he was endangering his darling’s reputation for an absurd selfish 
craze of his own, but he determined to lose no time in making 
reparation, and worked out a scheme which met with Dora’s ap- 
proval. They would, on arriving at New York, proceed at once 
to one of the best up-town hotels, the Netherland, 6oth Street 
East, Fifth Avenue, Central Park. The next day he would obtain 
a special license, and the day following they would be married 
quietly at Old Trinity Church, Broadway, and the same day leave 
for the West. 

“ I will wire from New York to have my pa’s private train sent 
from ’Frisco to Buffalo, where we will stay two or three days to 
await its arrival, and give you a chance of seeing Niagara in its 
winter garb. That’s pretty slick, isn’t it, darling ? ” said Fletcher. 


3 


34 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

It’s all right, Jim dear. But do tell me your real name, there's 
a darling.” 

“ No, pet,” said he, laughing, though he could hardly resist her 
sweet pleading. ‘‘ I am afraid you might let the cat out of 
the bag ; let me have my bit of fun. It is only a few days more 
to wait.” 

“ Very well, dear,” said she, with a sigh, kissing him affection- 
ately, “ have it as you will.” 

After (considering the time of the year) a most favorable voy- 
age the “ Gigantic ” sighted Sandy Hook, and as she passed up 
the magnificent harbor of New York, Fletcher and Dora stood to- 
gether on the deck. He was pointing out the various objects of 
interest. 

“ We are nearly home at last, darling,” said he. “ There’s the 
statue of Liberty, and there is the old Battery, and there are the 
giant buildings of New York, all in a bunch. In a few days we 
shall be steaming out West for ’Frisco.” 

Man proposes but God disposes, is the old proverb, and for- 
tunately for us we none of us can dive into the secrets of the fu- 
ture, and foresee the dangers, difficulties, and it may be horrors, 
that await us. If we could, I think there would be many of us who 
would flinch from the ordeal. Bright and beaming, with joy in 
her heart and love in her eyes, resplendent in her new furs, Dora 
scanned the glorious scene. Little did she think that clad in 
the same furs a few weeks hence she would be surveying the 
same scene, sick with doubt and anguish, weary of an existence she 
felt prompted to end. Life to the great majority of us is a stem 
reality, a part that must be played with more or less of forced res- 
ignation, or affected gaiety, but how few there are even of that 
select throng, the fortunate, who can honestly say they would 
like to live their lives over again, act by act, thought by thought, 
and sensation by sensation. To the average individual the very 
idea would be insupportable, an earthly realization of hell. The 
most prosperous of all the Arab Caliphs, who ruled at Cordova 
in Spain, and who was counted the happiest of mankind, was 
asked towards the close of a long and exceptionally favored life, 
how many perfectly happy days he could count. After consider- 
able reflection he answered fourteen, and he had been gifted in 
superfluous abundance with everything that could make life pleas- 
ant and agreeable. Still in spite of their rarity let us strive to live 
happy days and say with old Horace, ''Carpe diem, qmm minimum 


Left Behind. 


35 


credulo postiilo’^ (live to-day, trust not to-morrow). As the dark- 
est hour of the night is that preceding the dawn, so the bright- 
est and most peaceful period of the day is that when the landscape 
is illumined by the setting sun. I think it can be truly said that 
Dora during the short voyage had been very nearly perfectly 
' happy, and she had good grounds for looking forward with confi- 
dence to the future. She felt like a slave released from servitude. 
Her early life had been so cribbed and confined, so dull and somber 
in its colorings, so objectless and uninteresting. She had really 
had a hard unsympathetic time, envied, crushed down, snubbed, 
laughed at and misunderstood. How royal was her present ex- 
istence compared with her former one, worshiped, loved, petted, 
and caressed, every whim gratified by a man whose idol she was. 
If she had not possessed such a noble nature and such a loyal soul, 
she would have stood a great chance of being spoiled by the very 
intoxicating exuberance of the change. Then there is, too, the 
charm of travel under agreeable auspices. Everything was fresh 
and new to this young girl, whose wanderings had been limited 
to an occasional visit to London, or to an annual autumnal trip to 
the seaside. But let not the reader suppose that Dora was sent to 
the great metropolis to partake of its delights. There were no 
balls, garden parties, picnics, coach drives, Ascots, or Henley re- 
gattas for her. Oh, dear no ! Dora was always supposed to make 
herself useful, to be a lady maid-of-all-work wherever she might 
be. Her Londonizing consisted entirely of visits to a deaf old aunt 
at Clapham, from whom the Canon expected some money if he 
outlived her, which was doubtful, seeing that maiden aunts possess 
a tenacity of life only exceeded by the cat, the parrot, and the tor- 
toise, numerous specimens of which creatures, alive and stuffed, 
pervaded every corner and nook of the sleepy little suburban villa, 
arousing the ire and exciting the disgust of infrequent visitors. 
Why old ladies should surround themselves with animals, birds and 
' reptiles lowest in the scale of intelligence, seems to me to merit a 
place in the list of the world's unsolved problems. On these neces- 
sary, but penitential, visits poor Dora's time was chiefly occupied 
in conversing with her aunt through an ear trumpet, supplying 
the numerous cats with cream, the three parrots (two gray and one 
green) with Brazil nuts, and walking beside her aunt's bath chair 
on diurnal visits to the common, which peregrinations rivaled 
those of the tortoise for slowness and monotony. The old crank 
took a great fancy to Dora, and wished her to come and Jivejwith 


36 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

her, and Dora would have done so (as in spite of the old lady’s 
oddities, she was at heart a kind old soul) if it had not been for 
her uncle’s determined opposition, because he was afraid lest his 
sister should make his lovely niece her sole legatee, and so that 
he might find himself left altogether. 


Doubt and Despair. 


37 


CHAPTER IV. 

DOUBT AND DESPAIR. 

Fletcher had registered himself on board ship as a British 
subject, and Dora could not help admiring the audacity, though 
she pretended to disapprove of the unscrupulousness with which 
he corrupted the custom house officials at the dock, and by the 
timely expenditure of a comparatively modest amount of cash 
avoided increasing the revenue of the United States by some thou- 
sands of dollars, of which he would otherwise have been mulcted 
in payment of the duties on Dora’s rich and costly trousseaux and 
valuables. It pained her to see the half-dozen trunks of a youth- 
ful bride she (Dora) had been very friendly with during the voy- 
age, emptied of their expensive contents on the dirty quay, owing 
to her thick-headed, bully snob of an English husband neglect- 
ing to address the custom officers with proper courtesy, and to 
bridge the gulf of official suspicion with paper currency. At last 
Jim and Dora were clear of the dock, and having consigned most 
of their luggage to the care of an express agent, the happy couple 
were soon rolling in an auto cab through the great city of New 
York. Manhattan Island is so long and narrow that the dis- 
tance to be traversed in getting up-town from the steamer docks is 
considerable. Dora was much struck with that noble thorough- 
fare, Broadway, and by the imposing buildings they passed. Mad- 
ison Square impressed her immensely, and she also greatly ad- 
mired Fifth Avenue with its magnificent palaces, more especiallv 
those of them built of that handsome but perishable material, 
brown stone ; also those grand structures, the Holland House the 
best, and the Waldorf-Astoria, the most wonderful hotel in the 
world, and St. Patrick’s Cathedral, which without question is the 
finest ecclesiastical edifice of modern times. She was also de- 
lighted with the beauty of the site where the Plaza Hotel is located, 
which will compare favorably with Hyde Park corner in London. 


38 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Fletcher had cabled to secure a suite of apartments at the Nether- 
land Hotel. Till they were actually married he thought it better 
that Dora should not be seen about with him down-town, and 
directly the ceremony was performed they would get out West. 
The whole scheme of going under assumed names is generally 
wrong and foolish, but in their case it was a most particularly bad 
break, as a lady of Dora’s distinguished appearance is noticed at 
once, and it is impossible to say who might or might not inquire 
at the hotel office about her. Fletcher was so proud of his prize 
that he induced Dora to dine with him that evening in the hotel 
restaurant. She wore one of her splendid Paris gowns, one in 
royal blue velvet with costly point lace; the dress was cut low in 
the European style. It is needless to say that she created quite 
a furore and every one was asking who this very beautiful lady 
was. The next day the happy pair went for a drive through 
Central Park and down the Speedway and round by the noble 
Riverside, past the Grant monument, from where so fine a view can 
be obtained of the Palisades and the sweep of the glorious Hudson. 
They lunched together on their return, then took a stroll in the 
Central Park and watched the skaters on the artificial waters. 

“ Oh, I should like to have a skate,” said Dora, “ and wear that 
lovely costume in brown velvet trimmed with sable you got me in 
Paris, dear.” 

“ I should love to see you in it,” said the enamored Jim. “ We 
will have a glide on the steel blades to-morrow morning before we 
go down to get married, and you will have an opportunity of show- 
ing off your new frills at Buffalo, and we can also stop off a couple 
of days at Chicago, where there are some nice rinks.” 

When they had returned to the hotel Jim said: Now, love, I 
must hurry off down-town to get the license, or I shall find the office 
closed up. I may meet a few friends and have a quiet celebration, 
as is customary the night before a man is married, so if I am not 
back in time for dinner, have it by yourself in our private room. 
I shall be sure to return before ten o'clock in any case.” 

“ Don't be late, Jim, darling,” said she, “ I hate to be alone in a 
strange city, but I will excuse you this once ; it is a special occasion 
as I fully admit. Now don’t kiss me all to pieces, dear. I shall 
go and sit in the drawing-room during the evening. There are 
some nice quiet-looking women in the hotel.” 

“ Ati revoir, sweet one,” said the gallant Jim. To-morrow 
shall be legally united and the happiest couple in this exten- 


Doubt and Despair. 39 

sive country, I guess. You can bet on that, and won’t my daddy 
have a swelled head just when he sees what a daughter-in-law he 
has got. He will throw some bouquets at you, my darling, I 
reckon.” 

“ I sincerely hope that he will do nothing of the kind,” replied 
Dora, laughing. “ He might hurt me. My uncle has often talked 
of the time when it was the fashion to throw large bouquets to 
stage favorites ; sometimes they, the bouquets (not the stage favor- 
itesj, were of such a size that a prima donna at the opera was once 
actually knocked down by a huge stack of flowers, and several 
leading actresses at various times were scratched and bruised, and 
so the foolish custom was discontinued.” 

“We mean in this country compliments by bouquets,” replied 
Fletcher. 

“ Oh, I don’t object to your father, or even you,” she said archly, 
“ throwing those at me.” 

Dora was not prepared to see her Jim before 10 p. m., so she 
had her dinner quietly in their private apartments, and afterwards 
went into the drawing-room, where she got into conversation with 
two very nice ladies, and the time passed pleasantly. She retired 
to her apartments at ten o’clock, expecting Jim back shortly. She 
did not feel anxious even when eleven struck. She sat down in an 
armchair and lighted a cigarette (Jim had taught her to smoke), 
and began thinking of all the events of the last few weeks. After 
a time she began to feel drowsy, and tried to read a novel to keep 
herself awake, but could not fix her attention upon the letterpress, 
and so ended very naturally by falling asleep. She woke up feel- 
ing very cold. She had not turned on the steam heat ; for though 
she had had a very brief experience of that method of warming 
she did not like it, and said when Jim showed her in the morning 
how to turn it on and off, “ that it was so stuffy and gave her a 
headache.” But now she was really cold and was glad to avail 
herself of it. She looked at her watch, a dainty little affair all 
inlaid with precious stones, Jim had bought for her at Percy 
Edwards’, of Piccadilly, London. It was past two o’clock and 
Jim had not returned. What on earth had happened, thought she. 
He is so strong and self-reliant, and always carries a pistol, and 
said he was a dead shot. Oh, there surely could not be anything 
the matter. With a sinking heart she undressed and crept shiv- 
ering to bed, not before she had knelt down and offered a little 
piteous prayer to the Great Lord of the Universe to watch over 


40 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

and protect her dear Jim. She felt so exhausted that she fell 
asleep and did not wake until nine o’clock next morning. She 
crept out of bed hoping against hope to find him asleep in the 
dressing-room, that was on the other side of the bath-room, sup- 
posing that he had come in late and was afraid of waking her. 
She gave a little shriek when she found that the bed had not been 
touched. She crept back and cried as if her heart would break. 
A frightful notion entered her head which chilled her very heart ' 
and seemed to freeze the blood in her body. “ Had he deserted 
her? Oh, he couldn’t, it would be too cruel, and on the night, too, 
before their marriage. It couldn’t be, he was incapable of such a 
horrible, dastardly act,” an.d she repelled the terrible thought al- 
most as soon as she had conceived it, and was ashamed of herself 
for ever harboring such an unworthy suspicion. ‘‘ He must be 
ill, perhaps dead. Oh, no,” she cried to herself, “ he is so strong 
and brave, who would kill him ? ” That seemed now a worse 
thought than the one of his deserting her. Then her good old 
English courage came to her assistance. She must brace up and 
show herself what she was, a true English lady. So she dressed 
and went down to breakfast, and began to be more hopeful. Per- 
haps he had gone to a friend’s house outside of the city and would 
return that day, but in that case, why had he not sent her a wire 
or a telephone message? The day wore on and no news of Jim 
Fletcher came to hand, and she thought with agony that this was 
to have been her wedding day. O God ! what an awful change 
a few short hours had brought about. What havock had been 
wrought in her young life’s happiness ! What ought she to do ? 
She had no friends to go to in all that vast city. She had no one 
of her own sex in whom she could confide. She had not brought 
a maid from England, as she would have done if she had been 
married there, since she did not wish any one to even guess about 
her liaison. What a terrible net of misery deception weaves 
about us. It is true she wore a wedding ring, but she had no 
right to it. She did not know who Jim’s people were, because she 
did not know their names, and even if she had how could she 
appeal to them when she was not Jim’s lawful wife. Besides they 
were further away in San Francisco than her own folk were in 
England, and from them she was sundered by a gulf that only 
marriage could bridge. Then she accused herself of cowardice 
for thinking of herself and not of Jim. Just imagine what a 
dreadful appalling position for a beautiful young lady to be placed 


41 


Doubt and Despair. 

in, in a strange country with no friends, in an awful state of un- 
certainly about the man who was to have been her husband. It is 
true she was rich with the fortune Jim had bestowed on her in 
Paris, but that weighed as nothing in her mind in the balance com- 
pared with the loss of the man who had endowed her with it. 
If she could only find out that he was safe and well she felt she 
could pardon him his base infidelity, such is the angelic unselfish- 
ness of a woman who really loves, but she would have staked her 
chance of eternal salvation upon the certainty of his loyalty to her. 
What other conclusion could she come to but that her darling 
Jim was dead, or was in the hands of villains, who had kidnapped 
him and were holding him for ransom ? Such crimes were possi- 
ble and instances of them occur in every great city. One can 
only faintly picture the agony of mind she suffered as day after 
day went by with no tidings of Jim. She told the clerk in the 
office that her husband had been suddenly obliged to go West 
on business. She- took the hotel detective into her confidence, 
making him swear to secrecy ; she gave him $500 to begin with, 
and promised him a very large reward if he should be able to 
privately ascertain the whereabouts of Mr. Fletcher, and out of 
hope of gaining the big reward, and also from pity (for a man 
is not obliged to have a heart of stone because he follows the 
somewhat disagreeable occupation of a sleuth) for the poor 
young desolate lady. He quietly put in operation all the vast 
resources of the New York police. Every inquiry was made at 
the railway depots and the steamer wharfs, and strict searches 
were made in the city morgues, etc., but the problem appeared 
to be insoluble. It was impossible for Dora to conceal her poig- 
nant grief and anxiety. The blooni began to disappear from 
her cheeks. Her awful overwhelming calamity was gnawing 
with relentless fangs at her heart. Every one in the hotel was 
very sorry for the poor young lady, to whom it was evident had 
come a most sore affliction, though only the detective knew for 
certain what the calamity was. Dora was not without ready 
cash. In addition to the fortune standing to her account at Roths- 
childs’ in Paris, she was surprised to find a sum of $5,000 in 
Jim’s traveling bag, and he had given her $2,000 for pocket 
money. Her little stock of jewelry was fully worth another 
$10,000, and she had a valuable wardrobe of clothes. So far as 
the needful went she was very well provided, indeed. She com- 
pelled herself to eat sufficient food to keep up her strength 


42 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

for the work she had to do to try and find Jim. She spent several 
hours of each day in secluded spots of the Central Park, and 
she blessed Jim’s forethought in taking her to such a quiet, select, 
and beautiful hotel as the Netherland. The weather was cold 
and a hard, steady frost prevailed. One day as she was sitting 
watching the skaters on the piece of ornamental water near the 
Plaza and 59th Street, a gentleman, of apparently about sixty 
years of age, whom she had noticed in the hotel during the last 
two or three days, approached her, and, taking off his hat and 
bowing ceremoniously, said : 

“ Madam, you must excuse my speaking to you, but I have re- 
marked that you seem to be in distress. Can I be of any assist- 
ance to you ? ” 

There was a ring of genuine sympathy in his voice and a kindly 
look in his eye, and something in his appearance which attracted 
poor Dora ; she was so lonely that she was glad to speak to any- 
body, and she somehow felt that she could trust this man. She 
replied in a melancholy voice, “ I thank you, sir, immensely, but I 
fear you cannot help me.” 

Seeing that she did not actually repel him, the gentleman took 
his seat beside her, and continued by saying : “ I know I am a 
rough customer. I am a Westerner, ’Frisco is my home. I am 
just here for a few days on business, and am expecting a son back 
from Europe soon. He has been traveling there, and I guess the 
boy has been having a bully time. He is a fine lad, and is my 
only one, and I am mighty proud of him, I can tell you. He has 
either married or is going to marry an English girl. Yes, my 
boy is all grit. He shot a highwayman on sight who tried to hold 
up the coach he was on and killed a grizzly.” 

“What, killed a grizzly bear?” gasped Dora. 

“ Yes, madam, I guess he did, and I have the critter’s hide at 
home in my house at ’Frisco.” 

“ Was your son’s first name James, sir? ” said Dora tearfully. 

“You have guessed right, by Gosh, madam. Well, if that 
isn’t curious. Beats chicken fighting. Do you know my son 
madam ? ” 

“ It is only a strange coincidence, sir,” she said, in a faltering 
voice, “ for my husband’s Christian name is, or was, Jim.” She 
had a strange presentiment that this man might be her Jim’s 
father. If she were only married she thought. Ah, if, but situ- 
ated as she was she felt she dare not discover herself to him, and 


Doubt and Despair. 43 

poor Dora, completely overcome, burst into an hysterical fit of 
weeping. At length she got better, and confided to her new 
friend her great trouble, but only saying that she and her husband 
had recently arrived in New York from the other side, and that 
he had gone out one evening and had never returned. 

“ And has the scoundrel deserted you ? ” said the Californian 
excitedly. 

“ My Jim would never desert me,” replied Dora, “ but I fear 
that he is dead,” and her tears began to flow afresh. 

“ By Gosh, madam, I wish my son instead of this rascally or 
unfortunate man had run across your trail and married you.” 

Jim must have been unfortunate, but he could not be rascally, 
so please do not apply that epithet to him, sir,” said Dora passion- 
ately. 

“ I apologize, madam, but now to business. I feel that I can- 
not leave you here in this dreadful flx. My name is Joshua Clark, 
of San Francisco. They call me the aluminum king, because I 
own the patent rights of a process for making that metal as cheap 
and as hard as steel. Well, madam, I have made more than one 
hundred million dollars, and my royalties amount to at least 
fifteen million dollars a year. I am about the richest man out 
West, I mean in California, and I am a widower and have only 
one son. Now, dear madam, from the first time I set eyes on you 
four days ago, I took a great fancy to you. I never saw a 
woman whose looks I liked better. I am sixty-two years of age, 
and young at that. Now then, madam, will you promise to be 
my wife, if you find your Jim is wiped out, which I guess he is? 
I expect he got in a mix in some tough joint over a deck of 
cards, and one of the other men got the drop on him. That is the 
way it pans out I guess. Wal, I say, provided your Jim is gone 
up, if you will have me I will run over in my private train from 
’Frisco and we will get married right away and quit this tarna- 
tion great place and get out West. While you are here I will 
donate you twenty thousand dollars a month for your expenses, 
and if you want a house, will buy you one on Fifth Avenue, or 1 
will buy you the Netherland Hotel, or any old thing, and will 
settle on you ten million dollars when we are married. Is it a 
square deal? Here is my card, madam, with my name and 
address in ’Frisco. Wire me any time and I will start in my 
special train like a shell from a twelve-inch gun. I can cross 
this almighty great continent in less than three days. I tell you 


44 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

I am a hustler, there are no flies on me. But I love you, by the 
tarnal, I do.” 

During the recital of this extraordinary proposal, which was 
repeated in a measured sort of way, as if it were a matter of 
every-day occurrence, Dora sat staring at Mr. Clark with aston- 
ishment. She thought at first that he was crazy, talking of 
millions as if they were trifling sums, and of buying first-class 
hotels and palaces on Fifth Avenue as if they were frame shanties 
in a Michigan lumber village. But there was nothing to justify 
her in supposing that this well-dressed, calm, sedate, though 
seemingly eccentric gentleman by her side was out of his mind. 
She gasped out, “ I am greatly flattered by your splendid offer, 
sir, but my husband may still be living while we are speaking. I 
cannot, however, thank you sufficiently for what you have said.” 

“ Then you don’t absolutely refuse me,” replied Mr. Clark. 
“ You will allow me to be your friend, and assist you till matters 
are cleaned up about your husband. May I write to you ? ” 

‘‘ I have plenty of money, sir,” replied Dora, ‘‘ and you must 
perceive that I could not possibly receive pecuniary assistance 
from a stranger, but I should be very glad to hear from you, as 
I have no friends here.” 

She said this in so plaintive a voice that a big lump rose in 
the throat of the hardy old Westerner, and a tear dropped out of 
each of his eyes onto the silk lapels of his overcoat. He coughed 
down his emotion, and gallantly raised Dora’s little gloved hand 
to his lips, and then said : 

Will you allow me, madam, to be your friend? ” 

Dora replied, “ You are very kind, sir, I will, if you like.” 

Mr. Clark conducted Dora back to the hotel, and did not see 
her again till just as he was leaving next day, and then he only 
said : “ Good-by, madam, you will hear from me.” He had a 
short interview with the manager of the hotel, during which he 
said : “ I am greatly interested in that lady, Mrs. Fletcher. Here 
are $10,000 in bills, make some excuse and change her quarters 
into the very best suite you have facing the Park. Tell her 
that her husband left some money in your charge, but don’t state 
the amount, and inform her that he said he wished her to have 
it. Let her have any sum she wants. Here is my check for a 
further $50,000. Wire or ’phone me if she wants more, and also 
keep me posted about anything of the slightest importance that 
may happen to her, and mind, treat her like a princess, and look 


Doubt and Despair. 45 

here, Mr., I believe her husband is dead, and I want to marry 
her myself. On the day I do I will donate to you $100,000. 
Now keep your head shut and don’t let her know what I have 
done for her.” The manager bowed obsequiously to the multi- 
millionaire as he received these instructions.” 

“ Great Scot, if the old man isn’t just dead stuck paralyzed on 
the lady,” he soliloquized to himself. The manager waited on 
Dora that afternoon, and informed her that the suite she occupied 
had unfortunately been rented by mistake to some other parties, 
but added that he had given her another one, and asked her to 
come and see if it would do. Dora accompanied him and was 
astonished at its magnificence, and said: 

“ I am afraid, sir, this may be beyond my means.” 

“ But I shall not charge you any more for it than the suite you 
occupied before,” said the manager. “ Besides, Mr. Fletcher on 
his arrival left in our charge a large sum of money, and said you 
were at liberty to draw as much of it as you like.” 

Dora could detect by the rather nervous manner of the manager 
that he wasn’t speaking the truth, but she only replied : “ I am 

surprised that Mr. Fletcher did this, as we originally only in- 
tended to stop two nights here.” She felt certain in her own 
mind that this was the doing of the Californian millionaire, Mr. 
Clark, and admired the delicacy he had displayed. She felt 
very much drawn towards him on account of his chivalrous con- 
duct. Fancy if he turns out to be Jim’s father, she said to herself, 
when the manager had left her, what a strange thing it would be. 
She could not get over his proposing so suddenly to her, after 
only a few minutes’ conversation, but as poor Jim said, “ They 
lose no time in the States, for they are hustlers.” 

The manager obeyed Mr. Clark’s commands to the letter, and 
certainly did treat Dora like a princess, and each morning he 
called to see if she wanted anything particular, and a magnificent 
bouquet of the rarest hothouse flowers that had cost quite $20 
was placed on the breakfast table in her private parlor each day. 
A fine, well-appointed carriage and pair was at her disposal, and 
as she generally dined alone in her apartments, the head waiter 
attended on her with a menu each evening. An English maid, 
too, appeared, specially hired by the management to wait on her ; 
in fact, nothing was left undone to promote her comfort and hap- 
piness, and every one she came in contact with was very kind, 
thoughtful, and sympathetic. 


46 A 20th Century Cinderella. ? 

A letter from Mr. Clark arrived regularly every day. The first 
one was dated Chicago, the next one Ogden, and then came an 
epistle written from San Francisco. These letters were full of 
tender inquiries and true affection, roughly, but genuinely, ex- 
pressed. But in spite of this miraculous windfall in the shape of 
a multi-millionaire friend and would-be husband, and of all the 
kindness she experienced, she began unconsciously to fall into a 
very abyss of despair. Want of occupation, combined with 
brooding over Jim’s disappearance and her own extraordinary 
position, was rapidly bringing her within hail of insanity. But 
suddenly she seemed to brighten up, and she put on her best 
gowns and came down to the restaurant for her meals. The 
manager duly sent Mr. Clark daily ’phone messages about her. 
This astute person was thinking all the time of Mrs. Fletcher and 
of his chance of raking in a young fortune. Dora began to enter- 
tain in her half-crazed condition the idea that her husband had 
gone over to England and would return on the sister ship to the 
one they had crossed over in, namely, the “ Titanic.” She found 
out the day the vessel was due, and determined to go quietly 
down by herself to the dock to meet him. What put this strange 
idea into her head it is difficult to say. It is impossible to account 
for the vagaries of a disordered brain. Having obtained an order 
to admit her to the dock, she dressed herself in her smartest 
street clothes in order to look as nice as possible when he arrived. 
She remembered what he said in regard to the new skating cos- 
tume, and took care to put it on. She also wore a good deal of 
costly jewelry, which was hidden by her long seal coat. Without 
saying a word to a soul as to where she was going, she slipped out 
as if to take a walk according to her wont in the Central Park, 
but she left the park by one of the entrances on 59th Street, and 
made her way to the rapid transit underground railroad and 
in a short time arrived at the station which she was told to get 
out at for the dock. She did not take a cab, as she thought it 
might be followed. People on the street in this, what may be 
termed the French-Latin quarter of New York, stopped and 
stared at the richly dressed lady, her handsome clothes contrast- 
ing strangely with the somewhat sordid and shabby appearance of 
the population that inhabited the streets she had to traverse, in 
order to reach the dock of the White Star Steamship Company. 
By dint of asking her way several times she at length succeeded 
in reaching her destination. 


A Down Town Sporting Joint. 


47 


CHAPTER V, 

A DOWN TOWN SPORTING JOINT. 

There was the usual orderly bustle consequent on the expected 
arrival of an ocean liner. Dora made her way to the small 
pier outside the dock, where was collected a group of people, 
chiefly composed of relatives or friends of passengers on the 
approaching steamship which had some time previously been sig- 
naled as having passed Sandy Hook. In this knot of individuals 
were some idlers and sightseers whom mere curiosity always at- 
tracts to such places on like occasions. But these latter were few 
in number, as the White Star and the majority of the great ocean 
steamship companies now require intending visitors to their docks 
to obtain orders of admission. The absurd and tyrannous rule 
introduced by the United States Custom House authorities in the 
first year of the century of excluding the friends of passengers 
altogether from the dock of a homeward bound vessel was tried, 
found wanting, and speedily discontinued, as it raised such a howl 
among th*e wealthy and influential classes of the community. 

The concourse was slimmer than usual, owing to the pro- 
nounced inclemency of the weather. Naturally, Dora’s distin- 
guished appearance excited a certain amount of speculative atten- 
tion. But of this she was insensible, as filled with the hallucina- 
tion that possessed her, all her faculties were concentrated on the 
approaching liner, which could now be just faintly perceived 
making her way slowly up the harbor, though every minute it was 
becoming more and more difficult to see anything clearly, owing 
to the big feathery flakes of snow that were beginning to descend 
in ever-increasing numbers. 

Among those who surrounded Dora was a tall, gaunt-looking 
woman in a long cloth cloak and a black poke bonnet. This 
person seemed to take more interest in the handsome richly 
dressed lady at her side than in the expected steamer. She had 


48 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

gradually sidled up to Dora unperceived by her, for the poor 
girl’s eyes were mournfully turned either eastward in order to try 
and catch a glimpse of the ship on whose deck her disordered mind 
had convinced her that Jim was standing at that moment, or else 
employed in gazing downwards with looks of anguish and despair 
on the noble Hudson’s eddying stream, which was bearing past on 
its wide swirling surface jagged masses of ice, that kept rolling 
and colliding with each other on their way to oceanic dissolution. 
She was thinking how this same dark river may have laved in 
its grim embrace the poor dead body of her beloved Jim, and 
how, in a short time, too, it might be performing the same somber 
office for her own inanimate corpse. Her gloomy reverie was dis- 
pelled by a voice close beside her. It proceeded from the woman 
whom we have just alluded to. 

“ Pardon my speaking to you, madam, but I see you are in 
distress. Are you expecting any one by this steamer ? ” 

“ Yes, my husband,” replied Dora, shortly. 

“ But your eyes are full of tears. Are you sure that he will 
come ? ” again interrogated the woman. 

“ I trust in God he will,” replied Dora. 

“ I hope so, too, for your sake,” said the woman. “ I suppose 
he gave you those splendid furs. They are, indeed, magnificent. 
No wonder you love a man who makes you such presents.” 
And the woman eyed greedily Dora’s fine sealskin coat and Rus- 
sian sables. However, she spoke no more at present, and left 
Dora to resume the train of her melancholy reflections. 

Thicker and thicker fell the snow, and most of those on the 
pier sought the shelter of the dock, but Dora still persisted in 
maintaining her post, oblivious of the weather. It was apparent 
that the east wind was bringing with it from the Banks masses 
of vapor that threatened to envelop the city of Greater New 
York, before the lapse of many hours, in a dense fog. Moreover, 
the damp cold grew rapidly more bitter and piercing — pity for 
those poor homeless creatures without food or shelter that night. 
At last through the increasing gloom and snow eddies emerged 
the hull of the liner, slowly making her way to her temporary 
resting place like a great white ghost. As she crept alongside 
her dock Dora’s eyes eagerly scanned her decks to catch a sight 
of a well-known form, but she saw him not, and then when the 

Titanic ” had been securely moored with the promptitude and 
skill invariably displayed by those in charge of these huge trans- 


49 


A Down Town Sporting Joint. 

atlantic vessels, as the passengers descended the gangways, with 
sinking heart Dora scrutinized each male figure, enveloped in 
fur-trimmed coat or warm ulster, until the last had left the ship, 
and then, in sheer desperation, she boldly went on board, de- 
scended the companion to the saloon, where she hurriedly in- 
quired of a passing steward if there had been a Mr. Fletcher on 
the ship that voyage. The functionary recognizing in Dora a 
countrywoman of his own, as he supposed (judging by her ap- 
pearance), of high social rank, replied very deferentially: 

I think not, my lady.” 

He soon obtained a list of the saloon passengers, and Dora’s 
eyes ran along the scanty columns of names with sickening appre- 
hension. The examination was soon completed ; the winter com- 
plement of ocean travelers is small to what it is in summer ; only 
those whose avocations compel them to do so, cross the Atlantic 
in the stormy season of the year. With a deep heart-broken sigh 
she let fall the card on the table, and drew from her muff Jim’s 
pocketbook containing the $5,000, as well as over $1,000 of her 
own. She had brought it down, poor thing, with the idea that Jim 
might want some money when he arrived. She extracted a bill 
for $20 and handed it to the astonished steward, thanked him, and 
proceeded to gain the deck and from thence the shore. 

Alas! Alas! a deep, all-mastering sense of utter desolation 
seemed like a funeral pall to shut out the light of hope from her 
soul. She left the dock and wandered aimlessly along, keeping 
by the riverside, — she had resigned herself to her fate, 

“ Soon I shall be where he is,” she said to herself. “ The great 
river will claim me as another victim.” 

She determined to wait till it was quite dark, and then she 
would get on a ferry-boat and drop quietly overboard. 

“ It will soon be over,” thought she. “ The water must be so 
cold. God forgive me,” and she shuddered at the thought of her 
young life going out all alone into the darkness. From her breast 
a few deep sobs of self-pity burst forth involuntarily. She hadn’t 
perceived that, like a persistent shadow, the tall form of the 
woman that had accosted her in the dock was following her. In 
the desperate mental condition she was in she felt no apprehen- 
sion ; if she had been in her right frame of mind she would never 
have ventured down into such a locality by herself, but as it was 
she had nothing to fear, the bitterness of death had passed away. 
She seemed to have bade adieu to life with all its natural sensa- 
4 


5o A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

tions. The woman glided up to Dora’s side, like a fell pirate 
about to board a richly-laden merchantman. 

“ Your husband has not come, then, by the boat, madam? ” said 
she. 

He has been murdered here in New York, I feel sure,” replied 
Dora, “ or he would have come back to me.” 

“ What was he like ? ” said the woman quickly, as if an idea 
had suddenly struck her. Dora described Jim’s appearance. 
The woman’s question and evident eagerness inspired her with a 
hope she had thought was forever dead. 

“ Why, heavens ! ” replied the woman, with well simulated 
amazement, “ I have surely seen him. In fact, I know where 
he is at this moment. He is lying ill in bed with brain fever at 
a private hotel kept by Madame Rachel Lemaire.” 

“ Oh, take me to him wherever he may be,” cried poor Dora, 
in a tone of heartrending entreaty, “ and I will give you every- 
thing I have got. I have $6,000 here with me; they shall all be 
yours if you will only conduct me to his bedside.” 

“ Have you really got so much money as that with you, my 
dear ? ” said the woman incredulously. Seeing is believing, 
show me the stuff.” 

Without hesitation Dora took Jim’s pocketbook out of her muff 
and handed it to the harpy, who seized on and opened it with 
feverish haste. Her dark eyes almost started out of her head as 
she handled and examined the bills by the fast fading light. For 
a moment she thought of decamping with her splendid booty, then 
she reflected that it would be absurd to leave those grand furs 
and probably a quantity of valuable jewelry on the lady’s person, 
to be picked up by some other land-shark, or be altogether lost in 
the waters of the Hudson, when they were as good as hers, so she 
said obsequiously : 

“ You are quite right about the money, madam, but it will be 
^ safer in my pocket than in your muff. I will only keep $i,0(X), 
and return the rest when I have brought you to your dear hus- 
band.” 

“ If you bring me to him you can keep it all,” said Dora im- 
petuously. 

Follow me then, madam,” said the woman. 

Dora obeyed without another word. Through the fast deepen- 
ing gloom and the now rapidly falling snow did this ill-assorted 
pair pursue their devious way up one dingy street and down an- 


A Down Town Sporting Joint. 5I 

other till they stopped before a shabby looking house. Dora’s 
conductress rang the bell and a middle-aged woman appeared. 
She looked what she was, an Americanized French procuress, a 
human hyena. Not only was her face destitute of the least trace 
of refinement or intelligence, it was absolutely revolting in its 
sheer animality, soulless ferocity, and brutish cunning. Such 
faces as hers may have been seen among the Petroleuses during 
the reign of the French Commune in Paris. To Madame Lemaire, 
innocence and beauty were only merchantable commodities, and 
it is wretches like her who keep a market (that is never glutted) 
supplied, and who pander to the debauched propensities of de- 
praved men with wicked hearts and long purses. 

When Madame Lemaire saw poor Dora, a wolfish expression 
wreathed her face in a death’s head grin that wrinkled into many 
folds, the dry, yellow parchment-like skin of her thin, lank cheeks, 
and exposed to view two or three projecting discolored fangs, or 
tusks, which looked more like weapons of offense than instru- 
ments for the purpose of mastication. 

“ Please enter, Madame Brown, and the beautiful lady, too, and 
ascend the stairs with me. II fait horriblement froid” (It is 
horribly cold.) 

She led the way to a back room on the first floor, quickly 
turned on the steam heat, and then proceeded to light the gas, 
which showed that they were in a kind of parlor, fairly well, but 
gaudily furnished. Mrs. Brown then said : 

“ Madam, just hurry and get us something warm, for we are 
quite perished with cold, while I help the lady off with her furs 
and make her comfortable. She has come to see her husband.” 

As Madame Lemaire was leaving the room to execute the order, 
Mrs. Brown whispered several sentences in her ear which elicited 
another diabolical grin from the Frenchwoman’s face, as well as 
several nods of the head, and a horrid kind of suppressed chuckle, 
very bad to hear. 

Ah, poor Dora, you are in a sad case now, for you are in the 
clutches of two of the most relentless fiends in New York City, 
and the house that harbors you is one of the most notorious in 
that low down-town Tenderloin district. God help you, sweet, 
innocent girl, for you seem, indeed, to be beyond the reach of 
mortal assistance. 

Mrs. Brown officiously assisted in divesting Dora of the coveted 
furs. 


$2 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

How much did they cost ? ” inquired the woman. 

Over a thousand pounds/’ replied Dora. “ My husband 
bought them in London,” as she withdrew her arms from the 
splendid long Alaska sealskin coat that reached nearly to her 
feet and was powdered with half-melted snow. 

“ I have never seen finer. This coat seems quite new, and 
what a grand sable cape and muff ! ” soliloquized Mrs. Brown, 
adding mentally, “ And it will be the last time you put them on, 
my beauty.” 

At that instant madam entered the room with two steaming 
glasses of punch. 

This is yours, Mrs. Brown, and this for the lady,” said she, 
with a very leary wink at her confederate. 

''Mats quelle jolie robe de velour!'' (What a beautiful velvet 
dress), said she, reverting as she generally did when excited to 
her native French. “Ah, quelles niagnidques dentelles!" (Ah, 
what magnificent laces), continued she, raising the velvet dress 
with its sable tail trimming, and contemplating with gleaming eyes 
the gorgeous underskirt of rich pale blue satin covered with the 
most valuable rose point lace. While the woman was thus em- 
ployed Mrs. Brown had handed poor Dora the punch, which, it 
is perhaps needless to say, was heavily drugged. She obediently 
drank it down, to Mrs. Brown’s intense satisfaction. 

“ Now take me to him,” cried the hapless lady. “ You said 
you would. I am sure you are too good to deceive a poor heart- 
broken girl,” and she raised her two hands in an attitude of 
supplication, so sadly pathetic, that no male ruffian, however hard- 
ened or cruel, could have withstood the sight of this sweet dis- 
tressed beauty ; but woman, who in angelic goodness seems capa- 
ble of rising far above coarser and baser man, can also sink, when 
unsexed and degraded, far beneath him and the hearts of these 
two fiends in the semblance of women had been rendered as hard 
as adamant by the continuous exercise of their hideous avocation, 
and what is worse, as is nearly always the case, the procuresses 
were confirmed inebriates. A male drunkard generally evinces 
traces (however faint) of a disfigured manhood, a warped human- 
ity, or a maudlin generosity that may serve to remind one of a 
lost nobility of soul. An habitually sottish woman, on the other 
hand, becomes a loathsome beast, foul enough to excite disgust 
in the very devils themselves, and devoid of pity as a ravening 
ground shark. 


A Down Town Sporting Joint. 53 

Sit quietly a little longer, my dear,” said Mrs. Brown, and 
when you are thoroughly warmed and rested I will take you to 
him.” But the drug seemed to take long in acting, very likely 
owing to the insomnia poor Dora had been afflicted with. At 
length Mrs. Brown, impatiently throwing off all disguise, said 
loud enough for Dora to hear : 

“ You did not put enough stuff in the drink, Frenchy.” 

“ I put a double dose in, anyway,” replied Lemaire. “ I can't 
understand why it does not work.” 

“ Well, I can't wait any longer,” replied her companion. 
“ Now, madam, I will fix you up for the night, and take off your 
fine clothes. What a grand jeweled gold belt that is! ” said she, 
unfastening it. And look, Rachel, at the splendid watch and 
chain and diamond brooch,” and the horrid creature proceeded to 
annex these articles of jewelry, and then she and her companion 
each seized one of Dora’s arms and unclasped her costly bracelets, 
removed her gloves, and eagerly tore off the numerous valuable 
rings which covered her fingers. When it was too late, poor 
Dora, half stupefied as she was, seemed to wake to consciousness 
that she had been deceived and enticed into this place for the 
sole purpose of being robbed. She made a great effort to rise, 
but the potion was beginning to act, and Mrs. Brown easily 
pushed her back into the chair again. 

“ You said you would take me to him! ” gasped Dora. “ Let 
me go to him and you can keep all my clothes and jewels if you 
like, but for God’s sake let me go to my husband.” Half mad- 
dened with apprehension, and feeling the dire effect of the drug 
stealing over her senses, she made one last desperate effort to 
throw off the influence of the deadly narcotic and to free herself 
from the clutches of the vile harridans, and it was as much as 
the two women could do to master their struggling victim. 

Poor Dora was endowed like so many of her English sisters of 
the same class with considerable physical strength which despair 
had temporarily increased. She shook herself free from the en- 
circling arms of the Frenchwoman and sprang into an erect 
position, only to be felled again by the muscular Mrs. Brown. 
Dora managed to keep off her assailants for a few moments with 
her hands and feet, at the same time commencing to shriek for 
aid, but Lemaire from behind fixed her claw-like talons in the 
massive coils of the English lady’s glorious hair, and in so doing 
ruthlessly demolished the work that the tonsorial artist of the 


54 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

Netherland Hotel had performed with such loving skill that very 
morning, and roughly pulling back Dora’s head with a jerk that 
threatened to dislocate her neck, stifled her cries by stuffing a 
handkerchief into her mouth, and with Mrs. Brown’s assistance 
succeeded in forcing and holding her arms behind her. 

Dora was game to the last, continued to kick with consider- 
able vigor the shins of the last named woman, who, furious with 
pain and irritated besides by the unexpected fight the lady was 
putting up, cried out : 

“ Hold her tight, Rachel ! ” and forthwith knelt down and 
gripped with a firm hold Dora’s right leg (receiving as she did so 
a nasty kick in the face from her left foot) and unbuttoned the 
smart new high patent leather kid boot, and grasping it by its 
heel, drew it off, and then turned her attention to its fellow, which 
also quickly shared the same fate. 

“ Now you can kick as high as you please, my beauty! ” said 
the ogress with the shrill laugh of a maniac in a padded room. 

While Mrs. Brown was thus busied in removing the unfor- 
tunate lady’s elegant footwear, her associate in crime (in spite of 
her struggles, which were momentarily becoming fainter as the 
fell knockout drops began to take their desired effect) pinioned 
both of poor Dora’s arms behind her back with one hand and with 
the other unfastened the diamond-studded gold buttons of her 
gorgeous pale blue brocade waistcoat and drew it together with 
the handsome velvet fur embellished bodice from off her white 
rounded shoulders. Just as Mrs. Brown was rising to her feet, 
having disarmed her fair antagonist, and then like as when a 
hideous bloated spider having entrapped in its craftily spun web 
a bright many-hued butterfly, twines round its quivering legs and 
fluttering wings the fatal gossamer filament and prepares to 
batten on the life blood of its beautiful prey, so these two human 
vampires, having first reduced their innocent victim to a state of 
helpless stupor, made ready to complete their hellish work of 
spoliation. 

Mrs. Brown, perceiving that the operation of the drug had 
simplified the remainder of her task, grasped with her two hands 
the luxuriant chevelure of the now unconscious girl, brutally 
dragged her face downwards upon the carpet and proceeded to 
roughly pull over her head the rich gold brown velvet skirt with 
its deep flounce of Russian sable, and after that the blue satin, 
lace-trimmed petticoat which in its turn had been previously un- 


A Down Town Sporting Joint. 55 

liooked by the lissome fingers of the watchful French procuress. 

Poor Dora now lay prone on the floor, and the two horrible 
harpies stooped over their unconscious victim in order to com- 
plete their detestable work of spoliation. Their unholy greed was 
still unsatisfied, and they gazed avariciously at the dainty satin 
corsets and silk under petticoat, both of pale blue color, each 
trimmed with very costly point de Venise lace. Lemaire hastily 
left the room and quickly returned with a bundle of old dirty 
clothes that had belonged to a domestic drudge. Then Mrs. 
Brown seized the thick masses of poor Dora’s hair and savagely 
jerked back the head of the senseless lady with no more considera- 
tion than is shown by a pork butcher for a dead hog in the great 
Chicago slaughter-houses, or by an Indian brave for a defunct 
foe he is on the point of scalping. 

“ Now, my dear,” said the procuress, “ comes the turn of 
those grand corsets.” 

“ Frenchy, you take off that extra swell petticoat and the silk 
stockings. We must get this job finished as soon as possible.” 

Just as she was speaking came three distinct rings at the out- 
side electric bell, followed at an interval bv a fourth. 

“ Mon Dieu, but here is Captain O’Hara ! ” cried Lemaire, that 
is the private signal. Perhaps he comes to warn me of danger 
of being pulled by some of those devils of the Vice Committee. 
Anyway, we must take the lady into the bedroom and all her 
clothes. I should not like even the Captain, tough as he is, to 
know of this work. You can finish stripping her, Mrs. Brown, 
in the next room and dress her in these old togs. Now lend me 
a hand. My word, but she is heavy. What you call one fine 
woman.” 

The two women speedily conveyed, not only Dora, but her 
clothes and jewels into the bedroom, though several articles of 
apparel, including Dora’s velvet picture hat, her gloves, and a 
diamond bracelet, fell on the floor near the couch, unnoticed in the 
hurry. When this was accomplished Madame Lemaire went 
down to open the outer door and soon returned with a big, stout 
man with a bloated sensual look on his coarse face. He evidently, 
by his uniform and badge of rank, occupied the responsible posi- 
tion of police district captain. His coat and helmet were thickly 
powdered with snow, which he partially shook off before flinging 
himself into a large, easy chair. 


56 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Begorra, but it’s a bad night. My honey, get me a drap o£ 
the craytur, I’m about half frozen.” 

“ Certainly, Captain,” replied Madame Lemaire, going to a cup- 
board and taking out a bottle of brandy almost full and a couple 
of glasses, also a box of cigars. O’Hara takes a cigar and 
lights it and filled a tumbler half full with the brandy, which he 
drinks right off. 

“ Ah,” said he, “ that is the right ticket. It warms the cockles 
of one’s heart. None of that muck you get in saloons, and this 
is a proper kind of weed. I always get well treated in this 
house.” 

“ The brandy is the best from France, ma helle France, and the 
cigars are real Havanas,” replied Lemaire. 

“ Smuggled, of course,” said O’Hara, grinning. 

Well, that’s none of your business. Captain,” says Lemaire. 
“ But what do you suppose Mrs. Brown goes down to the docks 
for? Not for her health, I guess.” Madam indulges in a laugh, 
in which she is joined by the Captain. 

Now, Froggy, to business,” said the Captain. “ I have great 
difficulty in preventing your house being pulled by the Committee 
for Suppression of Vice, the members of which are infernally 
active just now. You know, Froggy, your place is getting a 
very bad name. Now, I can’t go on protecting it unless I receive 
something extra.” 

'' But, Captain, mon cher!” replied the procuress, “ I am pay- 
ing you a terrible price for protection, $i,ooo a year. I shall be 
tout a fait decavee, what you call ‘ dead broke.’ ” 

‘‘ Dead broke, be damned! ” said O’Hara. I should just like 
to know how many thousand dollars you have stowed away in 
snug investments in real estate and stocks, and besides, you know 
my bosses of Tammany Hall collar most of the cash I collect. 
That’s how some of them can afford to run studs of racehorses 
and keep up fine estates in England. But, Froggy, darling, you 
will have to shell out an extra $500 or I shall not be able to guar- 
antee your house from being pulled.” 

'' Oh, have mercy on me, Captain. I am a poor lone woman 
who is struggling to make a bare livelihood. I don’t know how 
I can spare the money. You are one hard man, Cap.” 

“ You will find it hard in the Penitentiary, Frenchy, and it’s 
there you will get unless you cash up pretty smart, too. Hallo, 
tp whom do these belong? I suppose to some fair dame in there ’’ 


A Down Town Sporting Joint. 57 

(nodding in the direction of the bedroom). A real slick Paris 
hat, a pair of gloves, and a diamond bracelet. Well, as to the 
last ” (putting it in his pocket) “ you will have to tell her it’s lost. 
But I can see that you fly at high game. That means skinning 
the dudes. So pay up, Frenchy, and look cheerful.” 

“ It will take nearly all I have by me. Cap, but I am in your 
hands.” She produces a pocketbook and takes a number of bills 
from it and counts a pile of them, and hands them over to 
O’Hara, who also counts them and places them in the breast 
pocket of his coat, and then pours out some more brandy ; lastly, 
stuffs a couple of handfuls of the cigars in his pocket, and says : 

“ Here’s to your health, madam, and' good luck to you. May 
you always have plenty of fools and fairies in your joint.” He 
drinks the brandy at a gulp with gusto. “ Just what I needed this 
filthy night. I don’t get such booze as this at other houses in the 
Tenderloin. Well, I must get a move on. I have to visit several 
protected houses and collect my dues, at least they imagine that 
they are protected and pay through the nose for being so, but I 
can tell you. Froggy, for your own satisfaction, whoever has to go 
to the wall, I will see that you are safe, anyway, for you have 
always treated me bully.” 

“ Thank you. Captain,” said Lemaire, ” I feel sure that you will 
stand by me. Take care how you go down the stairs, it’s pretty 
dark.” 

When the Captain was gone she soliloquized as follows: 

“ They call these Tammany Hall people tigers ; I call them 
sharks. The Captain is one big thief stealing the bracelet so 
coolly, though in this case it is true it doesn’t matter so much, but 
if it had belonged to a client, she would have raised Cain.” 

Here Mrs. Brown entered, carrying all poor Dora’s clothes and 
ornaments. She throws the former on the floor and places the 
latter on the table, and says : 

“ There, that’s done at any rate. I finished stripping our 
beauty, dressed her in the old togs, and laid her on the bed, where 
she looks like a pretty drunken slavey. You had a regular jaw 
with O’Hara, Frenchy. The conversation interested me consid- 
erable.” 

'' S acre!” replied Lemaire, “I am $500 poorer by his visit. 
He is one rascal.” 

“ He does bleed you to a tune,” said Mrs. Brown, '' but it shows 
that he knows where the dollars are/’ 


58 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

O’Hara is a thief. He stole one of the lady’s bracelets worth 
quite $1,000. I must have dropped it.” 

I wonder,” said Mrs. Brown, ” that he did not take the hat, 
too, for his best girl. I will wear it myself, anyway ” (she puts it 
on). How do I look, Frenchy ? ” 

“ It makes you look even more homely than you really are,” 
replied Lemaire. “ I will keep it myself as a souvenir of my 
charming Paris.” 

“ All right, Frenchy,” said Mrs. Brown, anything to please 
you. Now we will see to the plunder. Those furs and the fine 
laces are worth a whole pile, and the jewelry is a small bonanza. 
I guess the lady will feel rather queer when she wakes up 
and finds that all her prettv frills are gone.” 

While she is talking Lemaire is examining the clothe3 and 
making enthusiastic comments. 

“ I guess she is a bride, Frenchy.” 

‘‘ More likely the mistress of some millionaire,” responded the 
Frenchwoman. 

“ It doesn’t matter much to us either way, but come here, 
Frenchy. Do you see this pocketbook? The lady gave me this 
because I promised to bring her to her husband.” ( Both women 
laugh loudly.) “There’s $4,000 in bills in it. You shall have 
half. You see I am honest, honor among thieves, that’s what I 
say.” 

''Mon Dieu! But you are smart, Mrs. Brown. You are one 
great bunco steerer, as they say in the Bowery.” 

Mrs. Brown hands Lemaire $2,000, which the latter eagerly 
grabs and counts. 

“ Now,” continued Mrs. Brown, “ let us stow away all this 
truck.” (Pointing to the clothes and jewelry.) “It can be put 
for the present in that cupboard there. It’s just as well to clear 
it away in case we have any more visitors.” 

The two women stow away the plunder and each pockets her 
share of the cash, and Lemaire gets another bottle of brandy 
which she puts on the table with a siphon. 

“ We have made a big haul, Frenchy,” said Mrs. Brown, “ the 
togs and jewels are worth at least $5,000,” filling her glass as she 
spoke. 

“ Where did you meet this 5th Avenue swell ? ” said Lemaire. 

“Down on the White Star dock,” replied the confederate. 


A Down Town Sporting Joint. 59 

“She seemed crazy with grief at not finding her husband or 
lover on the ‘ Titanic/ ” 

“ But what are we going to do with her?’^ said the French 
procuress. 

“ We shall have to get rid of her, and pretty quick, too,” replied 
Mrs. Brown, grinning. “ The best plan will be to take her 
out while she is still half stupefied with the knockout drops and 
push her in the river. The fog is so thick and the snow is com- 
ing down so fast that no one will notice it. The big river tells no 
tales, and the body will be away beyond Sandy Hook in the deep 
Atlantic by to-morrow. But 1 must first cut off her lovely hair. 

It would be a shame to let that be washed about by the dirty 
Hudson, and any swell up-town barber would give $50 for it,” 
and the callous brute laughed like a first-class fiend. 

“ You shall not kill her, nor cut off her hair either,” said 
Lemaire excitedly. “ I will keep her here and make a stack of 
money by her. There is that great Chicago pork packer, one of 
my best clients. His friends call him Monsieur Spare Ribs. He 
will give me at least $1,000 for an introduction, you bet.” 

“ You are clean off your chump or crazy, as they say here, 
Frenchy. Why, she is some awful swell. Her friends will be 
searching high and low for her, and if she is tracked to this 
house our lives would not be worth five minutes' purchase. We 
should be shot down like wolves.” 

“ I have special police protection. No one dare search my 
house without Captain O’Hara’s leave.” 

“ Don’t you be too certain of that! ” replied Mrs. Brown. “ If 
it suited their book, Tammany Hall would fold their hands, look 
pious, betray us, and chuck us over like so much rotten rubbish. 
You can never trust wild animals, especially when they happen to 
be tigers ; but we will settle this matter later on. Let us have a 
good drink now, so fill up, Frenchy, drink hearty. With a few 
more good slices of luck we shall be able to retire and live respect- . 
able.” The two women fill their glasses and drink to each 
other. “ By the way, Frenchy,” continued the practical Mrs. 
Brown, “have you a gun? We may as well have one handy 
in case she wakes and tries to get out.” 

Lemaire opens a drawer and places a loaded revolver on the 
table, and the witches’ frolic soon waxes fast and furious. The 
two vampires laughed, sang, and even danced in the frantic 
excess of their hideous mirth, till overcome by the frequency and 


6o 


A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

strength of their potations, they both sank back dead drunk and 
stupefied into their respective chairs. 

The garish radiance from the gas lights shed it rays, ren- 
dered dim by the fog that had entered the room, over this hellish 
scene worthy of the brush of a Hogarth. There were the two vile 
women, themselves as helpless now as their ill-starred victim in 
the adjoining room ; the one with her face leaning against the 
edge of the table, the other sprawling over one arm of her chair, 
her head and arms hanging limply down. But for their labored 
stertorous breathings and occasional muttered oaths and obscen- 
ities one might have supposed that the two wretches had ceased to 
exist. 

On the table before them stood the brandy bottles, dumb agents 
of their downfall, and the pistol. 

Several hours elapsed, and of the three senseless women Dora 
was the first to recover consciousness. Her constitution was sound 
and vigorous and the drug had had really a beneficial effect on 
her, as it had afforded her much needed rest. Her cerebral dis- 
order had been caused as much by continued insomnia as by 
anything else. When she opened her eyes she could not at first 
remember where she was, but little by little the fearful truth 
dawned upon her as recollection came to her assistance. The 
room she was in was darkened, but the door leading into the 
parlor was ajar. She arose and made her way into the parlor. 

She then realized her awful position. Her despoilers were 
helpless, the tables were turned, and she might have avenged 
herself, but she had only one idea, and this was to quit this 
fearful place as speedily as possible. Better to die on the streets 
than remain in this ante-chamber to hell. She spied the pistol 
and seized it, determined to use it if any one tried to intercept 
her flight, and then she crept dbwn-stiars and unfastened the 
street door, and was once more a free woman. But whither 
could she go? Not back to the Netherland. No, she never more 
could face the world without her Jim. She imagined herself 
to be disgraced and declassee. The snow was falling in masses, 
the fog seemed almost impenetrable. She was facing almost 
certain death to venture out, miserably clad as she was, on the 
pitiless streets in such weather. But death had lost its terrors for 
her, though the suicidal feeling had in great measure departed. 
The effect of the drug had not quite subsided, and she stag- 


A Down Town Sporting Joint. 6i 

gered as she flung away the pistol, and hurried at random through 
the now almost deserted streets. 

Four inches of snow had fallen, and it was rapidly deepening. 
The few people she encountered thought she was some poor 
unfortunate who had been driven from her home. Once or twice 
she was molested by low drunken profligates, but she escaped each 
time from their uncertain grasp and blindly pursued her career, 
not knowing and not caring to what quarter she directed her foot- 
steps. 

At last she could go no farther. She saw dimly looming up 
before her through the snow whirls the outlines of a great build- 
ing. She stumbled heavily against some steps and uttering de- 
spairingly the cry : 

“ My Jim ! My darling Jim, I come to you ! ” 

She shuddered and sank down exhausted in front of the very 
church, Old Trinity, Broadway, where she was to have been mar- 
ried two short weeks before. 


62 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE NEW YORK MERCY HOUSE. 

Silently fell the snow, gently covering in its pure white 
mantle the poor lost wanderer, whose wanderings, unless help 
came, and that right speedily, would end forever here. The 
numbing cold would soon weigh down those eyelids, heavy with 
the sleep of death, and glaze those glorious eyes, which so short a 
time before had been lit with the light of love as they fondly 
gazed into those of her dear one. Was she destined to perish 
thus miserably? And was this lovely creature, the object of so 
much solicitude, to lie in a public morgue, stared at by the 
careless vulgar? She had lain where she had fallen perhaps 
twenty minutes, when the church door opened and a tall man, 
apparently about forty years of age, in a storm coat, came out, 
and shut and locked the door behind him. In descending the 
steps the man stumbled and nearly fell against Dora’s prostrate 
snow-covered body. 

“ Heavens,” he exclaimed, in tones of pity. “ Here is some 
poor creature out here on this dreadful night.” He knelt down 
and raised her up, her red golden tresses, powdered with shining 
particles of frozen snow, falling in masses over his arm. “ Poor 
thing, poor thing. How lovely, how forlorn. I must take her 
in out of the cold, perhaps she is not dead. Hi, policeman, come 
here.” 

A big Irishman, lantern in hand, approached, one of a type, for 
all the members of the New York police seem to the stranger 
to be exactly alike, burly, tall, with red faces and fierce still redder 
mustaches. They look like men who cannot be trifled with, nor, 
indeed, can they, but they do their work thoroughly, and have 
for the most part brave, kind hearts in those great Keltic bodies of 
theirs. He raised up Dora in his strong arms. 

You open the door, rector, and I will bring her in,” said 
he. “ What a beauty the poor girl is, from the old country I 
guess.” 


The New York Mercy House. 63 

Just then a sister of mercy, enveloped in a long cloak, provided 
with an ample Capuchin hood, white with snow, emerged from 
out the gloom. The rector, as he was unlocking the church door, 
looked behind him to see if the police officer was following, and 
caught sight of the hooded figure. He seemed at once to rec- 
ognize her, for he cried : “ Sister Agnes, just in the nick of time. 
Come and help us to revive this poor creature, whom I found 
right here ; in fact, I nearly fell over her body." 

The big policeman carried the unconscious girl into the vestry 
and laid her on a couch, and stood by with pity written on the 
features of his broad, honest face. 

“ I must go back now to my beat, rector," said he, “ but shall 
be close by, within hail in case you should need me." 

“ All right, Pat," said the cheery cleric, turning on the steam 
heat, “ but I wish to God I had some brandy," continued he, 
opening a cupboard. “What is this? A bottle of Scotch 
whisky. Gee whizz, I wonder who is the owner of it ? Precious 
good, too," said he, taking out the cork and tasting it. “ That 
v/on’t do anyone any harm a night like this, I suppose it belongs to 
that old tippler, the verger, and that reminds me, he is a Scotch- 
man from the land o’ cakes." As the worthy rector was thus 
soliloquizing he poured out some of the spirit into a glass and 
handed it to the sister, who was taking the usual means of restor- 
ing suspended animation. She managed to force a little of the 
wffisky between the teeth of the senseless girl, who soon gave a 
deep sigh. 

“ That’s right, dear," said the good sister, “ you will soon be 
better." 

After two or three more long gasps Dora seemed to breathe 
more freely, opened her big violet eyes, and stared wildly around 
her, and then, as if she were speaking in accents of terror and 
supplication to some person, or persons, she seemed to see, she 
cried piteously: “Oh, keep my jewels, keep my clothes if you 
will, but for pity’s sake take me to him." 

“ Rector, there has been foul play here," said the sister. “ Look 
at her hands and her beautiful features, this is no common woman, 
she has been lured into some den, and has been robbed." 

“ You are right. Sister Agnes," replied the rector in a voice 
husky with emotion. “ What hellish fiends to so cruelly maltreat 
so fair a creature, hearts of flint, minds of devils. Oh, God," 
cried he, “ in this city of New York there must be people worse 


64 : 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

than devils. May Thy fiercest wrath burn forever and ever these 
miscreants ; for such, at least, I trust there is a hell.” 

It was no ordinary cause that wrung these tremendous words 
from so charitable and kind-hearted a man as the rector of 
Trinity. 

“ Give her a little more whisky. Sister,” said he, “ the poor 
dear is rapidly reviving, and you must take her to your hospital. 
Pat can perhaps get a cab.” 

The rector went to the church door and summoned the police- 
man. and after some time a carriage was procured. It was as 
much as the two horses could do to drag it through the deep 
drifting snow. 

“ I know you haven’t much money. Sister Agnes. Here is a five 
dollar bill. The cabby will ask for a big fare a night like this, 
though the distance is not great,” said the noble-hearted clergy- 
man. 

“ Thank you, rector. He who giveth to the poor lendeth to 
the Lord ; cast thy bread upon the waters and it shall return unto 
thee after many days,” replied Sister Agnes, who had a great 
regard for the excellent pastor, though he was a Protestant and 
she a rigid ultramontane Catholic. Practical Christian people 
like these realize what infinitely small barriers differences in 
religious dogma raise between those who are engaged in the 
Christ-like work of alleviating the woes of a common humanity. 

“ Give her my coat. Sister,” said the rector, commencing to 
divest himself of his over-garment. 

“ No, no, yours is a valuable life and you know you haven’t 
a strong chest,” replied the sister. “ We nuns of St. Ursula are 
sworn to die if need be in the service of the Blessed Virgin, 
and of our Holy Patroness,” and she piously crossed herself and 
repeated an Ave Maria, as she unfastened her big cloak and 
wrapped it round her charge. “ Besides, rector,” said Sister 
> Agnes, smiling, “ you must remember that I am a Canadian 
woman from Manitoba. You New Yorkers don’t know what cold 
is. Why, on my father’s farm I have often gone out before it was 
light to our barn in order to milk the cows, with a temperature 
thirty below zero, with not so much clothing on as I have now. 
No, rector, make your mind easy about me, I am a hardy 
Canuck,” and the good sister, aided by the policeman, got the half 
revived girl into the cab. The rector stood for a moment watching 
the retreatip^ vehicle, and with a sigh he said to himself : “ Ah^ 


The New York Mercy House. 65 

Sister Agnes, you are, indeed, a brave true-hearted little woman. 
Saints like you are the real salt of the earth, which would go 
rotten with moral putrefaction if it were not for the bright ex- 
ample set by your unselfish, self-denying lives. What meaningless 
Shibboleths creeds are after all ; the great distinction between men 
of all religious denominations is, not what they think they believe, 
but what are the vital governing principles of their lives. Have 
creeds ever made men more Christ-like? Haven’t they caused 
endless confusion, infinite bloodshed, frightful hatreds, innumer- 
able wickednesses, and abominable cruelties? Surely it is the 
height of puerility, if not of impiety, to endeavor to define the 
undefinable, and to try and bring the idea of an infinite power 
within the range of our very limited comprehensions. Men are, 
and ever will be, judged by their lives and actions, and not 
by their more or less unthinking acquiescence in the medieval 
phraseology of fossilized beliefs.” So soliloquized the good rec- 
tor, who was a practical Christian, if ever there was one, but 
whose theology was somewhat shaky. Bright thinkers are 
naturally heretical, the ranks of the orthodox are mostly recruited 
from the stupid and ignorant. But though the rector in his com- 
fortable study that evening pondered a great deal on Sister 
Agnes and her good works, and a very little on the futility of 
dogmatic theology^ the beautiful girl whom he was the provi- 
dential means of rescuing, occupied most of his thoughts at last, to 
the exclusion of any others, and he was finally obliged to throw 
down his pen in despair and abandon, for the present, his Sunday 
morning’s sermon uncompleted. 

Meanwhile Sister Agnes conveyed in the cab the partially 
restored Dora to the Mercy House on Second Street and Seventh 
Avenue, and the poor exhausted girl was soon in a warm bed, and 
after having partaken of some hot soup, she sank this time into 
a natural refreshing, mind-saving slumber. 

The next morning she awoke very nearly quite restored, after 
a long night’s rest, wondering where she had got to. When she 
was duly informed, and had been also told of all the circum- 
stances of her rescue, she was extremely grateful to Sister Agnes, 
for having so materially assisted in saving her life. She was kept 
in bed all that day, the hospital physician attended her and pro- 
nounced her perfectly well in mind and body, in spite of the very 
rough experience she had been subjected to. ^ The Mother 
Superior visited her several times, but Dora would reveal nothing 
6 


66 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

respecting her identity or past life. All that she did was to 
confess that she had been enticed under false pretenses into a 
bad house and robbed of all that she possessed, but that she had 
eventually made her escape. The second day she got up, but 
kept her room, and so had time for reflection as to the proper 
course she should pursue. In the first place, she was convinced 
that Jim was dead ; that left her in the sad position of an unlawful 
widow, if such a term can be used. It is true, she had abandoned 
all idea of suicide, but she felt so keenly her position that she alto- 
gether shrunk from going back to the Netherland Hotel and 
resuming her former life there. She had several reasons for so 
deciding, the chief one being that with Jim she had lost all initia- 
tive and pleasure in life, and the fact that she had lived with him 
without being legally married seemed to have the effect without 
him of making her lose most of her self-respect. She could not 
face her friends, she could not face any persons who had helped 
to make up her former life, and, moreover, she dared not meet 
Mr. Clark again, as she felt that she would be sooner or later 
compelled to marry him, as she would be unable to resist the 
iron of his persistent endeavor, and she considered, wrongly per- 
haps, that she was not fit to be the wife of an honest man. With 
Jim she could have lived comparatively happily, even as his mis- 
tress, with no prospect of ultimate matrimony, but he was dead, 
or at least she thought so, and she determined to consecrate her 
widowed affections to his memory. It is true, she knew she was 
rich, with the million dollars he had endowed her with, but in 
her present way of thinking the gift was nothing to her without 
the giver. It is more than probable that she would have soon 
changed her mind and yielded to her destiny, and would perhaps, 
too, have begun to sigh for the fleshpots of Egypt, in the shape 
of the elegant Parisian toilets that were waiting her at the Neth- 
erland Hotel, but certainly the most devout nun of the rigid order 
of the Carmelites could not have donned her coarse robes with a 
greater show of indifference than Dora evinced when she put on 
the ill-fitting gingham gown, tied on the coarse huckaback apron 
round her waist, and pinned the uncomely mob cap on the shining 
coils of her wonderful hair, and she thought that by doing so she 
was entirely concealing her identity. As well might the foolish 
ostrich bury his head in the sand and figure on eluding his watch- 
ful pursuers. Hers was a rare style of beauty which laughed to 
scorn all disguises. 


The New York Mercy House. 67 

To explain the reason which she had for assuming the garb 
of a common domestic help, or hired girl, it is necessary to state 
that line Maison de la Miser icorde (in English, Mercy House) is 
carried on by an organization of professed sisters, belonging to 
some one or other of the religious orders of the Roman Catholic 
Church, engaged in works of active benevolence, and what better 
works than that of relieving human suffering? The sisters of 
this particular Mercy House I am writing about belong to the 
great order of the Franciscans, their patroness being St. Ursula. 
While not so strict as the Carmelites, still the rule of life of these 
nuns is pretty severe. In order to become a sister, of course, not 
only a novitiate has to be served and the white or black veil 
adopted, but the novice has, in the first place, to conform to the 
Church of Rome. 

Now, Dora was a staunch Protestant to the backbone, she 
had had a strict religious education and had been brought up to 
regard the Romish Communion as the scarlet woman of the 
Apocalypse. The Mother Superior, in order to provide employ- 
ment for such cases as Dora’s, was obliged to make the heretics do 
the menial work of the hospital before getting them situations 
elsewhere. It is true the sisters did their share of this, but their 
primary duties were those of nursing and attending to the sick, 
added to a certain amount of outside rescue work, in which last 
named employment Sister Agnes had been engaged when she 
happened most opportunely to arrive on the scene of action in time 
to assist in snatching our heroine from the very jaws of death. 
When Dora was dressed she could not help being astonished at the 
figure the little mirror in her bedroom reflected. 

‘‘ What would poor Jim think of me now if he were alive?” 
sighed she, “though he did say I would look all right in sack- 
cloth and ashes. I wonder, by the way, where they used to wear 
the ashes. On their heads, I suppose, and how the cinders must 
have, got mixed up with their hair, poor things, it couldn’t have 
been a very gorgeous outfit, no more is mine for the matter of 
that.” 

Indeed, poor Dora was turned into a real Cinderella with a 
vengeance. The gingham gown (pending the making of her own 
uniform) had been lent her by a sister four inches shorter (com- 
pared with the majority of the nuns, Dora was a perfect giantess), 
and at least four inches larger than she was in zonal circumfer- 
ence, consequently the garment was baggy and shapeless, and 


68 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

she could not help thinking for a moment with slight regret of the 
lovely toilets which the French artist at Worth’s had taken such 
infinite pains in fitting to her faultless figure, and, moreover, the 
dress was too short, and displayed in all their native hideousness 
the frightful cheap cloth boots with elastic sides and patent toes, 
several sizes too large for her, and the coarse black thread stock- 
ings — what a difference to the elegant many-buttoned French kid 
bottines, and the fine silk stockings she had been lately wearing. 
But she put away such useless reflections from her and made her 
way to the apartments of the Mother Superior, to whose presence 
she had been summoned. 

“ Well, dear,” said the Mother, a tall, dark woman, of about 
thirty-six, decidedly handsome, and most obviously a person of 
refined manners and of gentle birth. “ I hope you slept well, 
are thoroughly rested, and are prepared to undertake the duties 
of your office. Remember, it is your own choosing, or rather, I 
could not give you any other position here (as you are not a 
Catholic), than that of a common help. You will have to per- 
form any duty, however menial and repulsive, you are ordered 
to do. You will always address me as ma’am, and not talk to 
the sisters unless you are obliged to. Do you understand ? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” replied Dora, putting her head under the yoke. 

“ I hate to have to make you work like this,” continued the 
Mother, “ but you would not tell me your name or antecedents, so 
I have no option. Besides, this drudgery will keep you from 
brooding and make you sleep at night. I shall call you Sister 
Incognita for the present, till I have fixed on a regular name 
for you. Any one with half an eye can tell in a moment that 
you are a born lady by the whiteness and softness of your hands, 
and I can also see the marks of rings on your fingers, besides your 
manner and general appearance betray you, my dear, so I don’t 
think I shall retain you long in my service. I must say, whoever 
loaned you that gown thought it was her duty to inflict a severe 
penance on you. A beauty like yours, which survives and blooms 
in a shapeless pea-green gingham gown with yellow spots, must 
be, indeed, something superlative. I am afraid though that you 
won’t be able to preserve your incognito long. Now give me a 
kiss, dear, and I will summon Sister Mary to instruct you in your 
duties. You will always find in me a kind and considerate 
mistress.” 

, Sister Mary,” said the Mother to the nun as the latter entered 


The New York Mercy House. 69 

the room, “ take Sister Incognita and show her what to do. She 
had better begin by cleaning the main stairway of the hospital. 
Now, good-by, dear, and keep up your spirits, and come here 
without hesitation whenever you have anything to confide in me.” 

So Dora was soon on her knees scrubbing away like any board- 
ing-house hired girl, and she was comparatively happy, too; at 
least she was employed, and after all, idleness is the cause of a 
great deal of the physical and mental troubles in the world. If 
she had had employment to keep her mind somewhat diverted 
from her misfortune, when alone at the Netherland Hotel, she 
would not be in the present degraded condition — I say degraded 
only in a comparative sense, for no honest labor can possibly be 
degrading when looked at from the right point of view. She 
had been at work nearly two hours when a young man passed her. 
He was rushing down the stairs at a frantic rate, and almost 
brushed against her. She was looking on the floor at the moment 
and attending to the details of her occupation, and so only caught 
a fleeting glimpse of his back in the distance, but that momentary 
view somehow sent a thrill through her heart. It made her 
think of her lost Jim. A sister who was coming up-stairs at the 
time said to her: 

“ That’s poor Mr. Smith, I guess he has gone crazy.” 

“ How long has he been here ? ” said Dora, excitedly. 

“ Oh, about two weeks. He was brought in with a broken head 
and had lost his memory entirely,” and the busy sister passed 
on up-stairs while Dora continued her work. But the thought of 
her lost love affected her deeply, and the tears welled up in 
her eyes (though she tried hard to restrain them) and dropped 
one by one onto the hard stone stairs she was cleaning. While 
Dora was scrubbing the stairway of the Mercy House messages 
concerning her were being flashed along a score of wires, the 
utmost consternation prevailed at the Netherland Hotel, when 
it was found that Mrs. Fletcher had not returned. The manager 
was frantic, all the police districts were called up on the ’phone, 
and Dora’s description as last seen was forwarded everywhere. 

As the day wore on it became the universal opinion that 
poor Mrs. Fletcher had made away with herself. The manager of 
the Netherland felt constrained to ’phone the news of Dora’s 
disappearance, couched in very ambiguous phraseology, to San 
Francisco. The powers of the telephone had been immensely 
increased at the time I am writing about. 


70 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER VIL 

SLOCUM WRITES AN AD. 

When James Fletcher bade his darling Dora gaily au revoir 
at the Netherland Hotel to go down-town to get the marriage 
license, he little anticipated any trouble, and hoped to surprise her 
by returning far earlier than he had told her he probably would. 
He settled the business of the license and then journeyed to 
the Knickerbocker Trust Corporation and drew out $15,000, 
which, with the $5,000 he had left in his traveling bag, he thought 
would be amply sufficient to meet any of his or Dora’s possible 
wants till they reached ’Frisco. 

Strolling back up Broadway he encountered three Western 
friends and was somewhat easily persuaded to dine with them, 
and then what more natural than to adjourn to a club and then a 
second edition of the celebration took place. At last one of 
the party proposed a visit to a notorious faro bank on 23d Street. 
Jim somewhat kicked at this, as he wanted to get back to his 
darling, who would be waiting up for him, but his celebration of 
the end of his bachelor days had been a trifle too sumptuous, liba- 
tions of champagne followed by numerous Scotch whiskies, cock- 
tails, and pousse cafes, had obscured the lucidity of his judgment 
and had hardened the tenderness of his conscience. So the party 
adjourned to the gambling hell. Jim was very lucky and won 
considerable money. At last his friends thought it time for him 
and them to get out. He went away with them, and after divers 
drinks at the Gilsey House he bade them good night, but 
prompted by the devil returned to the faro bank, where he lost 
his winnings and a couple of thousand dollars besides. He there 
got in with a precious bad crowd, who persuaded him to accom- 
pany them down-town. They entered a villainously tough joint 
and started playing at poker. At first Fletcher held his own, as 
the confederates allowed him to win, but then his luck deserted 
him^ and he lost heavily. As he was taking the remainder of his 


Slocum Writes An Ad. 


71 


pile from his pocket, he detected one of the gang cheating. Just 
as the offending party was raking in the proceeds of the jack- 
pot, Fletcher snatched out his gun in a hurry and held the swindler 
up and claimed the pool. The gamblers were in a tight place, 
when one of their number quietly came behind Jim and struck 
him an awful blow on the back of the head with a loaded club, 
knocking him completely senseless. Without hardly saying a 
word the confederates divided the cash, went through Fletcher’s 
clothes, annexed his watch, chain, rings, and diamond breastpin, 
turned out the electric light, and decamped with their booty, 
having first given the proprietor of the joint his share of the 
plunder. The said proprietor coolly stripped the still senseless 
Jim, and finding that he still lived, dressed him in some old 
clothes of his own and took him in a cab to the Mercy House 
on Second Street, which was near at hand, and left him there 
with one of Jim’s own $100 bills, saying that he had found the 
unfortunate man on the sidewalk. It was not the first accident 
of the kind that had happened in that tough joint, nor the first 
half-corpsed wretch, the victim of that ring of professional gam- 
blers, who had been brought to the Mercy House with the same 
old story, “ found on the sidewalk.” The good sisters were not 
connected with the police, besides it was not their business to 
detect crime, but to relieve the victims of criminals, so nothing 
ever transpired and no questions were asked. Little good would 
have ensued if the Mother Superior had communicated with the 
police authorities, there was merely the victim’s word as to where 
he had been maltreated, and in most cases he would have been too 
paralyzed with drink to have remembered where the joint was 
situated, and if he did happen to recollect, all traces of the villainy 
would have disappeared and the proprietor of the joint would in- 
dignantly have denied ever having seen the party before, and the 
victim’s story would be treated as the hallucination of a drunken 
bum. But what more effectually blinded the tracks of the crim- 
inals was that the owners of these dens of infamy were virtually 
in league with the police, having to pay blackmail to Tammany 
Hall for the privilege of carrying on their nefarious trade. 

To return. For a whole week Fletcher lay in a state of semi- 
unconsciousness, hovering on the confines of the great unknown, 
but the care of the good sisters, and the wonderful vitality of the 
ex-cowboy and Western bear hunter, pulled him through. His 
hard skull had been nearly cracked, but not quite, Directly he 


72 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

was convalescent he began to mend at a marvelous rate, and 
was soon able to renew his strength with big porterhouse steaks 
and libations of Bass’ ale. But all this time his memory remained 
a complete blank, he could not remember a single incident of his 
past life, till one day, the very one on which Dora, in the same 
hospital, was pronounced strong enough to commence the drudg- 
ery of a help, Fletcher was sitting in the room set apart for con- 
valescents, dreamily looking out of the window on to the dreary 
street, wondering to himself how he had managed to have lost his 
own identity, when one of the sisters entered the room with a 
bottle of Guinness’ stout that he had asked for. While she was 
pq^iring out the tonic refreshment, another of the nuns looked 
in at the door, and said : 

“ Sister Dora, the Mother Superior wants to see you.” Now 
Dora is a somewhat common name, and there was nothing re- 
markable in this particular sister being so called. It was a slight 
coincidence, nothing more, but the hearing of that name was the 
right key to unlock the prison house of his memory. In a 
moment like a lurid flash all the facts of his past life in rapid 
succession rushed in upon him in one overwhelming flood. All 
the incidents of his meeting with his love in Canterbury, the 
delightful time they had spent in Paris, London, and on board 
the “ Gigantic,” his leaving her at the Netherland Hotel, and his 
promise to return early that evening, seemed to thunder one by 
one like mental explosions to his affrighted, reawakened faculties. 
He started to his feet, pressed his hands to his forehead, and 
snatching a cap from a peg, he shouted : “ Dora, Dora, I come to 
you, if not too late, wretch that I am.” And he rushed down- 
stairs and out of the house. The sisters naturally supposed that 
he had suddenly gone out of his mind, but when the Mother 
Superior was told of it, she said : 

“ He is not crazy, his memorv has come back, that is all. I 
have seen cases like it before. This is not the last we shall hear 
of this young man.” She didn’t know his name, as he had for- 
gotten that along with the rest. When Jim had run two or three 
blocks, reason asserted itself, and he reflected what was best 
to be done. He hadn’t a cent in his pocket and was dressed like 
the inmate of an almshouse, but his head was cool and clear 
now, and he made his way on foot as rapidly as he could to tlie 
great Times building near Broadway, went up the elevator to the 
eighth floor, and entered the office of his father’s and of his own 


Slocum Writes An Ad. 


73 


New York attorney, Mr. Uriah Slocum, one of the brightest coun- 
selors-at-law of the city of New York. He was engaged when 
Jim entered the office, and the clerk, to whom Jim gave his name, 
was a new man, and, therefore, did not recognize him, and told 
him to wait till Mr. Slocum was at leisure, judging by the poor- 
ness of Jim's clothes that he was some pauper witness, who was 
required to go on the stand in the trial of one of the law cases 
the office had in hand. So Jim had to sit in the outer office 
biting his nails, though he was absolutely boiling over with im- 
patience. At last his turn came. As he entered the private 
office, Mr. Slocum rose from his desk and started back with 
astonishment. 

“ Mr. James Clark, is that really you? Your father has been 
much alarmed and has been 'phoning, wiring, and writing me 
about you from 'Frisco. He thinks you are still in Europe, but 
he has not heard from you for quite a while. But why are you 
dressed like this ? What has happened ? You look pale as if you 
had been ill." 

Jim threw himself into an armchair and said: Give me a 

cigar and a brandy and soda, or something, Slocum, and I will tell 
you all about it as briefly as I can, for I have not much time to 
spare." And Jim related to the horrified attorney his adventures. 

“ Poor thing, and she has been all this time at the Netherland 
Hotel thinking, of course, that you are dead, and she is not actually 
you wife you say," said the attorney. 

“ By God she shall be this day," exclaimed Jim, fiercely. I 
meant to have married her a fortnight ago, she has been my wife 
in heaven's sight from that evening when we missed the boat at 
Calais. Now give me a check. I have over a million dollars 
standing to my credit at the Knickerbocker Trust Corporation. 
Here is a draft for $50,000," said he, writing out and handing to 
his lawyer the magic piece of paper. '' Get it cashed and I will 
call for some of it later. Have you $1,000? " 

“ Yes," replied Slocum, $2,000 if you want it." 

“ No, that will do. Now I’ll get a decent rig up, and then go 
straight to the Netherland Hotel." 

“ It will be simpler to telephone them first," said the attorney. 

Give me the Netherland Hotel,” said he, ringing up the 'phone. 
Having got connected, Slocum said : “ Is that the Netherland? " 

“ Yes, who are you? " 


74 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Slocum, counselor-at-law, Times Building. Is a lady named 
Mrs. Fletcher still with you ? ” 

“ No, she disappeared three days ago, and we cannot find any 
trace of her, though the police have been searching high and low 
through the city of New York. We fear that she has committed 
suicide, as she was very much depressed since the disappearance of 
her husband, more than two weeks ago.” 

“ Thank you, good-by,” said Slocum, who had only communi- 
cated with the Netherland for form’s sake, as he had, of course, 
read of Mrs. Fletcher’s disappearance in the papers. As he was 
ringing off the ’phone he heard a deep groan, and turned and saw 
his client seated with his face buried in his hands. 

“ I have killed her. I have killed her. The sweet, poor inno- 
cent darling. I wish I were dead, too.” And the poor young 
man for about the first time in his life burst into tears. It is bad 
to see a man cry at any time, it seems unnatural, however acutely 
he may feel a blow, at least a brave man will always try and 
restrain his emotion in the presence of a fellow-man, but it is the 
more terrible when he who sheds the tears of anguish is brave 
and strong, as tough as steel, careless of danger, and the very 
personification of manhood. Mr. Slocum, hardened man of busi- 
ness as he was, with feelings blunted by contact with human wick- 
edness and frailty, had yet a soft corner in his heart. He pitied 
his young client immensely, and felt a big lump rise up in his 
throat, but he let -the first wild paroxysms of grief exhaust them- 
selves, and stood looking on sympathetically while his client’s 
strong frame shook with those terrible sobs that are only evoked 
by mortal agony. At last Slocum patted him kindly on the 
shoulder, and said: ^ 

“ Cheer up, old man, you naturally feel knocked out. I should 
have been the same in your case, it shows that you truly love her. 
But now give us a specimen of the real grit I know you possess. 
A man who could tackle a grizzly face to face won’t chuck up the 
sponge in any of life’s trials. Don’t lose hope at the outset, you 
shall stay with me all day, and if New York holds your wife, for 
wife she is virtually, we will find her. Buck up, drink this brandy 
and soda, and keep on smoking. Nothing like tobacco for quiet- 
ing a man’s nerves. I will have a cigar myself. I specially im- 
ported them from Havana, and they are in great condition.” As 
he said this he touched a bell and his confidential clerk appeared. 


Slocum Writes An Ad. 75 

** Jenkins,” said he, “ tell every one who comes that I am called 
away and cannot see a soul to-day.” 

“ But how about that real estate business of Mr. Snook’s, sir? 
There is an appointment in the matter,” replied the clerk. 

“ You are a pretty considerable fool,” replied his master. I 
only keep you because I think you are honest. Snook can go to 
Texas and take his real estate with him for aught I care. When I 
say a thing I mean it. I am engaged with Mr. Clark all day, 
that’s sufficient. Don’t make such a break again, Mr. Jenkins, or 
you and I will have to part company.” 

The abashed clerk stammered out : It shall not occur again, 

sir,” and disappeared with a jerk. 

Now, my dear Clark,” said the attorney, addressing his client 
who had by this time recovered his self-possession, “ will you 
place yourself implicitly in my hands ? I see you are a man once 
more, prepared to face bravely without flinching whatever fortune, 
good or ill, you may have to encounter. Remember, my dear 
fellow, there are crosses to be won in the daily conflict of life more 
glorious than any gained on the field of battle by the display of 
mere brute valor, which is often nothing more distinguished than 
either the result of bluntness of nerve susceptibility, or a wild 
impulse to conceal that natural shrinking from death and danger 
we brand as cowardice.” 

“ I will obey you, Slocum, in every particular. I rely altogether 
on your wisdom and discretion,” replied Jim Clark. “ Should you 
be the means of finding my darling you will have placed me under 
an eternal obligation. I shall be taking up all your valuable time, 
make any charge you like, spend any sum you think proper, I 
never realized what dross money is when placed in competition 
with love until now.” 

“ A very useful dross, by the way,” replied the attorney. “ I 
shall not forget to charge for my time and trouble you bet. Now, 
in the first place, I shall put an advertisement in the leading morn- 
ing and evening newspapers. I will sketch it out and see how it 
reads,” and Slocum seized a pen and a slip of paper, but said, 
“ Before I begin I must get some information respecting Mrs. 
Fletcher from the hotel,” so once more he ’phoned to the Nether- 
land and asked to see the manager, and obtained from him a pretty 
fair description of the style Dora was dressed in when she was last 
seen to pass through the office. The hotel clerk, a sharp observ- 
ing person, and also Dora’s lady’s maid, supplied all the necessary 


76 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

information. Thus armed, Slocum wrote out the advertisement 
he intended to insert in the papers. It read as follows : 

“ $20,000 Reward. The above sum will be paid to any one 
giving information that will lead to the restoration to her husband, 
alive and well, of a lady named Dora Fletcher, who left the Neth* 
erland Hotel, 6oth Street East, 5th Avenue (where she had been 
staying), on the afternoon of February 20, and has not since been 
heard of. The lady is a decided blonde, about 5 8 inches in 

height, very beautiful and distinguished looking, with red, golden 
hair, apparently about twenty years of age. She was dressed 
when last seen in a long sealskin coat, a brown velvet hat, a cape, 
neck fur, and muff of Russian sable. 

“ Information must be sent to Uriah Slocum, Counselor-at- 
Law, Times Building, Broadway.” 

“ Now,” said Slocum, if she is alive that will unearth her. I 
do not believe she is dead. My theory is that she was lured to 
an out-of-the-way part of the city by some unscrupulous wretches 
under the pretense of giving information about you, and has 
been kept since under lock and key, in order to obtain a reward 
for her discovery. Such strange crimes have been committed 
before. There is nothing new under the sun, as the preacher 
saith, more especially in New York City.” 

“ But is not the reward too small, Slocum? ” said Jim. “ You 
know my father donated me ten million dollars before I started for 
Europe. I would give every cent of the balance, which is about 
eight and a half millions, to recover my lost darling.” 

“ I can quite understand you would, my dear fellow,” replied 
Slocum, “ but twenty thousand will do as well as one hundred 
thousand. It is no use wasting money, little as you seem to value 
it. By the way, what vastly different appraisements exist of the 
value of human beings,” said Slocum meditatively. You would 
give, we will say, eight million dollars to recover your beautiful | 
wife. I have heard of working men in certain parts of England 
who have been known to sell their wives for 75 cents and a gallon 
of ale apiece. In Timbuctoo travelers say a very useful, though 
hardly according to our ideas, lovely bride can be purchased for, 
say $27.50, the price fluctuating according to the state of the 
market, from twenty-five to thirty dollars. In the opinion of the 
Arabs, a pure bred horse is worth several women, except they be 
Circassians. But I give you the credit of having fixed the price 
pf your wife at a figure which is probably the highest on record, 


Slocum Writes An Ad. 


77 


and I know you only say what you mean.” Having delivered 
himself of this half philosophical, half cynical speech, the lawyer 
touched a bell and said: “Jenkins, see that this advertisement is 
inserted in the evening and morning New York City papers till 
further notice. A list of the papers is appended herewith.” 

The obsequious clerk, who wished to reinstate himself in the 
good graces of his kind, but exacting, master, retired without a 
word to execute his mission, and Slocum then said : 

“ Now, my dear fellow, you look, pardon me, a regular cheap 
guy in those clothes. I will ’phone the Netherland Hotel to send 
you a change of raiment in a portmanteau here, and express the 
rest of your belongings to my house at Yonkers. I am not going 
to let you out of my sight till either your wife is found or your 
father arrives from ’Frisco. By the way, his movements are 
rather mysterious. He was in New York about a fortnight ago, 
but I don’t know where he was staying. He did not give me a 
look up. Is there any lady he is mashed on in this city ? ” 

“ Not as I know of,” replied Jim. 

Under the genial influence of Slocum’s society he was rapidly 
recovering his spirits. Hope springs eternal in the human 
breast, as the poet says, and a lucky thing it does for us poor 
mortals, for if it did not, many of us would go under. As soon as 
the portmanteau containing Jim’s clothes, together with a hat box, 
had arrived at the office (Slocum telling the manager of the Neth- 
erland that he had a clue as to Jim’s whereabouts and was his 
lawyer), he was soon arrayed once more in the ordinary garb of a 
gentleman, and he and Slocum went out to a quiet neighboring res- 
taurant where Jim, encouraged by his friend and legal adviser, 
proceeded to put away a very fair lunch. The two went to 
Slocum’s home at Yonkers at an early hour. Jim was received 
most kindly by Mrs. Slocum, a very charming woman, who was 
profoundly sorry for his romantic and perhaps tragical misfortune. 

That evening the advertisement made, as it was intended, a 
profound sensation throughout the city of New York. 


78 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE MOTHER SUPERIOR READS THE AD. 

But though the sensational advertisement in the New York 
papers caused so much excitement in the outside world that eve- 
ning, it did not disturb the serenity of the Mercy House. The 
sisters were not supposed to read the papers, and it was seldom 
that a patient got hold of any evening one, but it was different 
with the morning organs of intelligence, and soon the occupants of 
the convalescent room were eagerly discussing the all-engrossing 
topic. The Mother Superior considered it her duty to regularly 
look over the morning Herald, as sometimes in the agony column 
appeared notices concerning missing relatives, who might be in 
her hospital, and as head of an important institution, she esteemed 
it also but proper to keep herself au courant with the general news 
of the day. She soon saw the twenty thousand dollar ad, and it 
made her ponder quite a deal, and finally she sent for Sister 
Incognita. When Dora had entered the room the Mother said, 
watching at the same time her face very closely; 

“ Now, my dear, I desire to have a little quiet chat with you 
on a subject of the gravest importance. I shall begin by asking 
you a question, and I implore you to give a straightforward 
answer. It would be wicked for you to tell a falsehood, even in a 
matter that you might suppose concerns your vital interest, 
though, if I am any judge of character by face reading, you are 
altogether incapable of deviating from the truth. Now you have 
admitted to me that the night you were found by Sister Agnes 
perishing on the steps of Trinity Church, Broadway, you had been 
entrapped into a bad place and stripped of all your clothes. Now 
I want to ask you, did you on that occasion wear a long sealskin 
coat, with a sable cap, neck fur and muff?” and the Mother’s 
keen eyes seemed to penetrate into Dora’s very soul. She clasped 
her two hands over her face and murmured in a choking voice, 
“ Yes, Mother, I did wear these things, but how did you find 
it out? 


Slocum Writes An Ad. 


79 

The Mother did not heed the question, but went on somewhat 
sternly; “ Your first name is Dora, is it not? ” 

The poor girl burst into tears and said : “ This must have been 
revealed to you by God.” 

“ No, my dear,” replied the practical Mother, “ it was revealed 
to me by yourself, though doubtless under the direction of a 
higher Power. In the first place, your wonderful beauty and re- 
finement showed to me that you were no common woman, then 
the night you were brought here I was watching by your bedside 
alone and you murmured in your sleep, ‘ Dear Jim, come back to 
your own Dora/ that gave me your first name. I have since found 
your second. Try and be calm and prepare yourself for a great 
surprise, and, as I trust, a most joyful one. Two weeks ago there 
was carried into this hospital a young man, senseless and appar- 
ently half dead. He had been struck a frightful blow with some 
heavy instrument on the back of the head. The man who accom- 
panied him said he had found the unfortunate young fellow lying 
on the sidewalk ; he also said he was sorry for the poor chap, and 
left one hundred dollars to pay expenses of caring for, or burying 
him, which latter contingency seemed the more probable of the 
two. I have a strong .suspicion that this good Samaritan is the 
keeper of a very tough gambling joint, and this apparently kind 
action on his part may have only been a salve to his conscience, 
or simply a precautionary measure for having allowed his victim 
to be robbed and nearly murdered in his house, but I had no proof 
and could only do the best in my power to save the life of the 
wounded man, who must have had an iron constitution as well as 
a very hard head, as he made a wonderfully rapid recovery, and 
in less than a fortnight was convalescent. He recuperated physi- 
cally in a marvelous manner, but the blow on his head seemed to 
have completely deprived him of all memory of his past life. 
Such cases are not very uncommon, and I hoped in time some- 
thing would occur that would restore his power of recollection. 
The right key was found in an unexpected manner. As the young 
man yesterday morning was sitting in the convalescent ward, gaz- 
ing out of the window, doubtless endeavoring to recover his lost 
identity, one of the sisters entered with some refreshment for him, 
and another of the nuns at that moment put her head in the 
door, and said : ‘ Sister Dora, you are wanted when you have 

got through,’ Mr. Smith (for that is the name we had given him) 
at once started to his feet with a horrified look on his face, 


8o 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

pressed his hands to his head and shouted : ' Dora, Dora, I come, 
I come,’ and before any one could stop him he had rushed out of 
the house, and though we have made every inquiry we have been 
hitherto unable to discover his whereabouts, but this morning 
appears this advertisement in the Herald” and the good Mother 
read the notice, headed $20,000 Reward.” 

“ And now, dear,” said the Mother, folding up the paper, “ have 
you ever seen this Mr. Smith before, for here is a picture of 
him which I kodakked and developed myself ” (photography was a 
recreation the excellent Mother had turned to good account in 
this way on previous occasions), and she handed a photographic 
picture to poor Dora, who was seated with parted lips and 
straining eyes, looking as if she had been struck dumb by some 
unexpected sudden shock. No sooner had Dora set eyes on the 
picture than she shrieked out: 

It is. It is Jim, my own darling Jim, he is living, thank 
God, thank God, and to think I could almost have touched him 
as he passed me yesterday. If I had only seen him in time.” 
And then she sank on her knees in an imploring attitude, and 
cried : “ Mother, dear Mother, take me to him,” and finally she 
hid her face in the kind Mother’s lap and burst into a passionate, 
hysterical fit of weeping. The mother herself could not control 
her own emotion, and her tears fell in sympathy with those of the 
weeping girl. At last she said, stroking affectionately the fair 
head before her: “ Now, dear, you must be good and brave, and 
do exactly what I tell you, and I will have him brought to you. 
Until he comes you must keep quite quiet and compose yourself. 
Remember, dear, you are still my servant and must obey me,” and 
the good Mother smiled as she went to a cupboard and took from 
thence a bottle of French brandy, poured some in a glass, and 
mixed it with water. “ Take a little of this medicine, dear, and 
then lie down on that couch.” 

Dora obeyed without a word, and then the Mother went to 
the telephone and rang up Mr. Slocum, Counsel-at-Law, Times 
Building. 


Jim Kisses The Mother Superior. 


8i 


CHAPTER IX. 

JIM KISSES THE MOTHER SUPERIOR. 

While the Mother Superior of the Mercy House was inter- 
viewing her new domestic help, we must betake ourselves to Mr. 
Slocum’s office. He had arrived in the morning in company with 
James Clark. The former repeated his order to Mr. Jenkins,, 
that he could see no one except on Mr. Clark’s business, so the 
two men were left undisturbed. Jim sat in an armchair smoking 
desperately; he felt as if he were a sentient microphone, he was 
so tremendously anxious that he appreciated that the only thing 
was to follow his friend’s advice and sit quietly and smoke 
Slocum’s powerful cigars to try and deaden his nerves. Did you 
ever, my dear reader, have the fidgets, as they are sometimes 
called? If so, you know you feel as if you could not keep a par- 
ticular limb quiet, it seems as if endowed with separate life, a 
malady called St. Vitus’ dance is perhaps only an aggravated, 
intensified form of the fidgets. Poor Jim felt as if he had them, 
not only in one particular limb, but all over his body, in every 
nerve and muscle, but he obeyed orders and sat as mute as 
marble, and turned himself into an automatic machine for manu- 
facturing tobacco smoke, while the lawyer posted himself at his 
desk and was soon engaged in opening and reading his letters. 

“ There,” said Slocum at length, “ that pile of communications 
is from well-intentioned speculative persons offering suggestions 
and formulating some shrewd, but for the most part, ludicrously 
absurd, schemes for the discovery of your wife. There are only 
two of any real importance. One of them is from the superin- 
tendent of the White Star Line, saying that a lady answering 
exactly to the description of Dora, as given in the advertisement, 
was seen on the dock by several of the officials on the arrival of 
the ‘ Titanic,’ and another was from one of the stewards of the 
boat, saying that Mrs. Fletcher boarded the ‘ Titanic ’ and inquired 
if her husband was among the passengers, but it seems she left 
6 


82 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

the dock afterwards and all trace of her was lost, as unfortu- 
nately a very dense fog was beginning to settle down. If these 
advertisements fail I shall have all the pawn shops and second- 
hand clothes stores in the city searched, the wretches who prob- 
ably got hold of her will have taken her clothes and jewels and 
sold them and this may give us the clue we require. There is 
another theory I have, that she is gone to England.” 

Slocum had been rather soliloquizing to himself than talking 
to Jim, who seemed to be staring into vacancy, but at these last 
words of his lawyer, he started up and cried : 

“ That’s impossible, she never would face her friends be- 
cause she was not married. Oh, God, what an awful wretch I 
have been to satisfy an absurd craze. I have sacrificed her hap- 
piness and perhaps her life.” 

“ You did a foolish, wrong thing, which you must lose no time 
in repairing if we find her,” replied Slocum. 

“ Ah, that if, that dreadful ‘ if,’ ” said Jim despairingly, throw- 
ing himself into his chair again, I can’t stand this suspense 
much longer, old man. I shall go crazy,” and he started smoking 
again furiously. Just then a clerk came in with a telegram. 
Slocum tore it open. 

“ From your father, Jim, from Buffalo.” 

The wire read as follows; 

“ Slocum, Times Building, New York City. Will be at your 
office about six this evening. Tremendously important business. 
Very glad that Jim has turned up. Joshua Clark, Buffalo.” 

“ Great Scot, how your father must have raced across this 
continent! It is less than two and a half days ago since he 
left ’Frisco, and now he is on the home stretch. This trip will 
wipe out all records for trans-continental traveling.” 

“ Daddy likes going fast,” said Jim, “ but I wonder what this 
tremendously important business is ? ” 

“ I can’t say,” said the lawyer. '' I wired him yesterday to 
'Frisco, to say that I had seen you. The telegram was, of course, 
forwarded to him en routed 

Then the two men sat quiet, not speaking a word for quite 
a while. The silence only being broken by the ticking of the 
office clock, and by the muffled roar of the great city away 
beneath them, then of a sudden cling, cling went the telephone 
bell. Slocum applied the ear trumpet to his .ear. 

“Hello,” came a woman’s voice, “are you Judge Slocum?” 

“Yes,” replied that gentleman, “who are you?” 


Jim Kisses The Mother Superior. 83 

The Mother Superior of the Mercy House on Second Street, 
Seventh Avenue. Have seen your advertisement in the Herald 
about Dora Fletcher. Come right away, she is here, bring her 
husband with you.” 

“ We are starting this very moment,” almost shouted the 
lawyer. For a second he lost his self-possession, and muttering 
the words, Thank God she is found,” he angrily dashed away 
a tear from his eye, as if ashamed of displaying weakness, he 
looked on himself when in his office as a legal machine and in- 
flexible as a man of steel. Then he rang off the telephone and 
brought his hand down with a smash on the striker of a little 
table bell, and Mr. Jenkins appeared with the promptitude of a jack 
in the box. It looked suspiciously like as if he had been listening 
at the door. 

“ Ring up a motor cab at once,” said Slocum, seizing his 
overcoat, and going up to Jim, who had dropped off into a fitful 
doze. (He hadn’t slept a wink all night, and had hardly yet re- 
covered his strength.) 

“ Wake up, old chap, and come with me,” said the lawyer, 

I think perhaps we may have a clue, but don’t be disappointed 
if we find ourselves on a wrong trail.” He dared not give Jim 
the Mother’s ’phone message, as, if there was a mistake, he 
feared that the disappointment might unhinge his client’s over- 
wrought mind. A drowning man will snatch at a passing straw, 
so Jim sprang to his feet without saying a word, but his bright- 
ened eye, and the feverish haste with which he reached for his 
overcoat and hat, spoke of returning hope. 

“ Make her hum,” shouted Jim to the cabman, as he and his 
friend seated themselves in the vehicle, and it wasn’t long before 
they stopped at the entrance of the Mercy House. 

“ Why, heavens, this is the very hospital where I was for two 
weeks,” said Jim. “ What do they know of Dora? It is some 
fake business. I shall never see her again,” said he despond- 
ently. 

“ Come along, old chap,” said the lawyer, '' and brace up. 
There are excellent people here, I’ll bet, and as right as rain.” 

They were shown into a small waiting-room and in a few 
minutes (which seemed like the ages of eternity to Jim, at so 
great a tension were his nerves strung), the Mother Superior 
entered the room. 

“ Well, Mr. Smith,” said the good Mother, with a smile, ‘‘ you 


§4 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

left us rather unceremoniously yesterday. There is a lady here 
who would like to see you, she is one of my domestic helps, so 
you must not be surprised at the way she is dressed. But she 
has not done enough scrubbing to harden her pretty hands, for 
to tell the truth she has not been in my service for more than 
thirty-six hours. You are Mr. Slocum, sir, I suppose,” said 
she, addresing the lawyer. 

“ I am that individual,” said Slocum. 

‘ Will you follow me, gentlemen ? ” And she led the way 
to her private apartments, which were on the ground floor. 
As they entered the room a tall girl in the garb of a common 
servant rose from the couch where she had been lying. She 
gave a wild shriek when she saw her lover, and cried ” Jim,” 
while one word only came from his lips, and that was “ Dora.*’ 
And in another moment she had rushed into his arms and had 
fainted right away. The prudent Mother, thinking that this 
would be a very natural break for Dora to make under the cir- 
cumstances, had provided the requisite restoratives, and very 
soon the two lovers were seated on the couch, Jim’s arms around 
her, while her fair head was resting on his broad breast. 

“ Let us leave them,” said the kind Mother, “ it would be 
sacrilege for us to remain. That pair will never be happier 
on this side of the grave,” and the lawyer sternly nodded as 
he followed the good Mother with bated breath and quiet step, 
as if he were leaving a church during divine service, and surely 
love had at that moment consecrated with its holy presence that 
plain unpretentious chamber. 

After an interval when the first transports of extreme joy 
had somewhat subsided, and a brief mutual explanation of the 
reasons of the respective mysterious disappearances of the now 
reunited lovers had been given to each other, Jim Clark opened 
the door and requested the Mother Superior and Mr. Slocum to 
reenter the room. 

“ How can I ever repay either of you ? ’ said Jim enthusias- 
tically, “ for having restored my darling to me,” and he actually 
had the audacity to bestow a kiss on the comely face of the 
Mother Superior (which she received with good grace), and 
at the same time grasping the outstretched hand of the lawyer. 

'' You are a very impudent fellow,” replied the Mother, smil- 
ing. “ You will bear witness, sir,” she said, turning to the 


Jim Kisses The Mother Superior. 85 

lawyer, that I did not return the salute, the kiss was taken 
under compulsion, or I should have committed a mortal sin.” 

“ I give you full and free absolution,” replied the lawyer, 
laughing, “ and also I have to give you something more substan- 
tial,” taking out of his pocketbook a check (which he filled in), 
together with a receipt form. “ Kindly sign this ; it is a receipt 
for twenty thousand dollars, the reward offered by Mr. James 
Clark for the recovery of his wife.” 

“ I am forbidden by my vows to receive money for my own 
use,” replied the Mother. “ I can only do so on condition of 
my applying it to the wants of this hospital. We are always 
hard up, and this will, indeed, be a splendid windfall, as a con- 
tribution to the building fund of a new wing, as we are in need 
of many fresh beds.” 

“How much will the wing cost?” said James Clark quickly. 

The Mother said : “ About $75,000. With your donation we 
shall have collected exactly one-half of the sum required. I 
know not when we shall get the rest, but God will provide.” 

While she was speaking Jim had taken out his check-book, 
and filling in a draft, said, “ By the way, I owe the hospital a 
debt for the great services it rendered me. I should, in any case, 
have sent a donation, though it would have been smaller than 
this, which is my thank-offering for the restoration of my Dora,” 
and he handed the check to the Mother Superior, who gasped 
when she read the amount. 

“ What, $100,000 ! It is a fortune. Surely you have made a 
mistake, sir,” she said incredulously. “ Can you spare so large 
a sum ? ” 

“ Between ourselves, madam,” put in the lawyer, “ Mr. Clark 
is the only son of the great Californian millionaire, Mr. Joshua 
Clark, whose fortune I know to be fully $150,000,000, so you 
can understand that $100,000 is a mere bagatelle to him. But 
I know that it is my client’s wish that no one here, if possible, 
besides yourself, madam, should ever know that either he or his 
wife were ever in this hospital.” 

“ It shall be kept as a most sacred secret which shall die 
with me,” and the Mother raised a crucifix, as she spoke, to her 
lips, and said : “ I swear it in the name of the Blessed Virgin, 
and of our patroness St. Ursula. Mr. Clark is known and will 
always be referred to here as Mr. Smith, and this lady as Sister 
Incognita.” 


86 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

“ But, Mr. Clark, I beg in the name of this hospital, to 
offer you our most profound and heartfelt thanks; at one stroke 
of the pen you have relieved my mind of a very great anxiety, 
and have most materially improved the financial condition of 
this institution. If our prayers -will be of any avail, the sisters 
of the New York Mercy House will never cease from this day 
to offer up daily intercessions on your behalf and on that of your 
sweet wife.” 

“ Now, darling,” said Jim, who was boiling over with his new 
found happiness, “ I think it is high time to fire yourself from 
this lady’s service. I am sorry, madam,” said he, turning to 
the Mother, ‘^that I shall have to deprive you of the services of 
your hired girl, but the fact is I want her in my own house, where 
if she chooses to scrub the floors and sweep the carpets for 
exercise, of course, she can do so, but she will have plenty of 
professional helps to do the work for her. She makes an awfully 
pretty slavey, doesn’t she? Though I can see that her uniform 
was not engineered by Messrs. Worth, of Paris. It is about the 
meanest rig out I have ever set eyes on. Turn round, darling, 
and let’s look at you. Hully gee, it’s about a foot too big in the 
waist, and great Scott, look at her shoes, they are only fit for a 
dime museum. They did not cost, I judge, more than ten cents 
a pair.” 

“ Now, Jim dear, I won’t have my clothes run down in this 
way,” said Dora, laughing. “It isn’t fair, is it. Mother?” 

“ I really must apologize,” replied the Mother, “ but I was 
on the point of having a much more becoming uniform made. 
This was lent to Mrs. Clark to go on with. It was the best we 
could do. You see, your wife is such a fine, tall woman.” 

“ The sister who owns this frock has a bully fine big waist 
anyhow,” replied Jim, “ but never mind, we can soon alter this 
state of things.” And the joyful Jim wound his arm round 
Dora’s waist and gave her several hearty kisses, saying as he 
did so, “ I could eat you, darling.” 

“Oh, really, Jim dear, what will the Mother think of you? 
and as for Mr. Slocum, I am sure he must be quite shocked.” 

“ Oh, dreadfully so,” replied the lawyer. “ Please go on 
shocking me, I like it. The only thing is, it is a very tantaliz- 
ing performance to witness. But now, madam, and my dear 
client, it is about time we were getting a move on.” 


Jim Kisses The Mother Superior. 87 

“ Of course, it is,” replied Jim, adding significantly, “ we have 
some very important business to do.” 

“ What is that ? ” said Dora. 

“ I guess we have got to go down-town to do it?” said Jim 
evasively. 

“ But we are there already, aren’t we ? ” replied Dora. 

“We shall have to go downer still, to the neighborhood of 
Wall Street,” said Jim, laughing. 

“ Oh, Wall Street is where they buy stocks and shares? ” said 
the sweet girl inquiringly. 

“ Yes,” replied Jim, “ and it is where you and I, dear, will 
procure a big share to-day.” 

“ Of what, dear ? ” said Dora. 

“ Of a commodity, whose price is, I guess, never quoted on 
any market, happiness, and we can get that in Old Trinity 
Church, through a broker called a preacher.” 

“ That’s well put, Jim,” said Slocum, “ but the first question 

is. Mother Superior, how are we going to get these two young 
people out of the hospital without exciting suspicion? I have 

it. Mr. Clark and I will walk down the street for a couple of 
blocks, and then you put Mrs. Clark in the motor cab, and tell 
the driver to stop when he overtakes us. Mr. Clark can then 
get in. I have had all your clothes and belongings, Mrs. Clark, 
sent by express from the Netherland Hotel to my house at 
Yonkers. You two can go straight down there, where you will 
find everything ready for your reception. Now all you want, 
Mrs. Clark, is a big, warm garment with a hood to cover up 
your face and dress.” 

“ I have a sure thing,” said the good Mother, going into her 
bedroom and producing from thence a winter cloak, of a kind 
used by the sisters for their outdoor work. It was thick, warm, 
and long, extending nearly to the ground, with a big hood alto- 
gether concealing the face. The Mother was a tall woman, so it 
fitted Dora admirably. 

“ May I buy this of you. Mother dear? ” said Dora, “ I should 
like to keep it so much, in memory of you and of the hospital.” 

“ Please keep it, dear, as a very little present. I shall buy me 
another out of the $120,000. I think the hospital can now afford 
to give me a new outdoor garment.” 

“ My dear Slocum,” said Jim, “ I am awfully obliged by your 


88 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

kind forethought about my wife's clothes. She will be differ- 
ently dressed, Mother, when you see her again." 

“ I guess so," said the Mother, smiling. 

Before leaving Slocum informed the Mother that the Clarks 
would be staying at the Waldorf-Astoria. It was now time to 
be off, and Dora kissed the Mother most affectionately. 

“ Good-by, Sister Incognita, I am sorry to lose you, but I sup- 
pose this gentleman would not be content to let me keep you." 

Jim laughed, and both he and Slocum shook hands heartily 
with the kind Mother and left the hospital arm in arm. After 
walking a short distance the cab containing Dora overtook them. 
Jim got in, telling the motor cabby to drive to Strawberry Villa, 
Yonkers, and also advising him to send the machine along at 
its best pace, and he would give him a fare that startled the cabby 
with its magnitude. 

Slocum had imparted to Jim, as they were walking along, a 
scheme to regulate his movements. He said he had a particular 
object in expressing Dora’s things to his (Slocum’s) home, which 
was to blind the trail. If they had been sent direct to another 
hotel it might easily have transpired that Mrs. Fletcher and Mrs. 
Clark were one and the same, now it would be difficult, at least 
for a few days, to connect the two, as, during her stay at the 
Netherland Hotel, Dora had not gone down-town at all, she had 
given her instructions to the police in her own apartments or by 
’phone, her solitary walks had been confined to the Central 
Park, and she had only appeared in the restaurant on about half 
a dozen occasions, so, comparatively, few people had ever seen 
her. To further deceive the public, Slocum had determined to 
continue the insertion of the twenty thousand dollars’ reward 
notice in the newspapers for a week longer. He had not breathed 
a word of the case even to his own confidential clerk. Jim Clark, 
Mrs. Slocum, the Mother Superior, the millionaire, and he him- 
self were the only persons who would know for certain that the 
beautiful Mrs. Clark was the very individual for whose recovery 
the reward had been offered. 


Keziah Gets The Hump. 


89 


CHAPTER X. 

KEZIAH GETS THE HUMP. 

I MUST now transport the reader across the great American 
continent to the metropolis of the West. There is a subtle charm 
about the fair city of San Francisco. Its romantic origin, its 
commanding situation, its wide streets, and lines of stately man- 
sions that have been constructed with infinite labor on such 
unsubstantial foundations as the shifting surface of steep billowy 
sandhills. The polyglot character of its population, its Chinese 
and Italian quarters that seem like huge cantles carved bodily 
from the cities of Shanghai and Naples, respectively. Its mag- 
nificent harbor and its Sutro, the Monaco of the Pacific Coast, 
and lastly, its wonderful Golden Gate Park, all these in turn 
excite the wonder and enthrall the interest of the visitor. In the 
vicinity of the highest position of this noble park, and in full 
view of the unequaled panorama that encircles it, stands (at the 
time I am writing of) a massive square white marble mansion, 
constructed on much the same plan as the famous Palace Hotel, 
one of the glories of the neighboring city. This mansion, or 
rather palace (as that term suits its goodly proportions better), is 
surrounded by noble terraces, and finely laid out gardens, wherein 
well graveled paths craftily wind in serpentine course, among 
groups of variegated shrubs, subtropical plants and artistically 
designed flower-beds. The edifice itself is built about a central 
glass-roofed court with picture galleries running round it into 
which open the bedroom suites, the reception rooms on the 
ground floor, each communicating, with the central court, which 
is at once a summer and a winter garden and is well provided 
with easy chairs of all descriptions, and is adorned with an orna- 
mental fountain and a large assortment of various kinds of palms 
and evergreens. 

The master of this palatial abode, on the day after Dora's 
arrival at the Mercy House, is pacing with quick nervous steps 


90 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

up and down this central court with his hands clasped a la Napo- 
leon behind his back, and a big cigar which he is puffing spas- 
modically between his teeth. He is a man slightly above the mid- 
dle height, of strong, wiry build, and though well on past the 
sixties shows no sign of physical decay. He has keen gray 
eyes and well-cut features, and his whole appearance denotes a 
man endowed with excellent qualities of heart, mind, and body. 
He is now evidently greatly disturbed, and is in a state of nervous 
irritation. This gentleman is no less than the famous Joshua 
Clark, the aluminum king, the richest man in California, one of 
the world’s great money magnates, the immensity of whose re- 
sources bids defiance to the financial storms that shock Wall 
Street from time to time and sweep away with cyclonic force the 
comparatively gimcrack fortunes of those who are accounted rich 
in the ordinary sense of the word. 

Before going further I may as well present the reader with 
a short outline of the romantic life history of this remarkable 
man. Joshua Clark came of a good old New England stock. 
His ancestor soon after the termination of the War of Independ- 
ence deserted the seclusion of his Vermont farm for the bustle 
of city life in New York. His descendants though possessed of 
a fair share of shrewdness and industry were not very successful 
in business and failed to make much headway. The hayseed still 
seemed to cling to their hair, and transparent simplicity, coupled 
with punctilious honesty, only appeared to act as a bar to their 
commercial success. The father of the subject of this sketch 
died suddenly and left his two children, a boy and a girl, but 
very moderately provided for. The former accordingly deter- 
mined to seek his fortune out West. So Joshua Clark, having 
turned all his share of the modest paternal estate into cash, 
boarded a train, and in due course found himself settled on a 
small cattle ranch near the Sacramento River, California. 
Joshua, at length being tired of a bachelor life, married the daugh- 
ter of a neighboring farmer, and had by her three children, all 
of them sons. After a happy married life of twenty years, Mrs. 
Clark died, and Joshua persuaded his sister Reziah to come out 
West to take charge of his house. Jim (the hero of this story), 
the youngest of the three boys, lived at home with his father and 
worked on the ranch, his quiet life being occasionally diversified 
by hunting expeditions in the mountains. His two brothers were 
wild devil-may-care fellows. Josh, the eldest, went to seek his 


Keziah Gets The Hump. 91 

fortune in Arizona and lost his life in a gambling hell at Santa 
Fe whilst endeavoring to prevent a friend of his, a tenderfoot, 
being robbed by a gang of card-sharpers. Huck, the second 
boy, was a famous hunter, rivaling Jim in this respect, but unfor- 
tunately was wiped out in a mix-up with a bear, the daring young 
chap having had the impudence to attack the royal bruin in his 
own den. Huck’s dead body was discovered lying alongside that 
of the gigantic grizzly which had also departed this life, riddled 
by bullets and haggled by knife stabs. They had both died 
game. 

So it came to pass that Jim was left the sole surviving hope of 
the family. Prosperity came to the old man. The long run of 
family bad luck at length petered out and the tide turned sharp 
in the opposite direction. He had the good fortune to strike 
oil on his property, and spent all his savings in sinking a well 
which proved to be a gusher. He made money now pretty fast 
and hoped in no very long time to be worth the stereotyped 
million. But fortune had greater gifts in store for him. One 
day when on a visit to ’Frisco, where he now spent a good deal 
of his time, he strolled into the bar of the Palace Hotel in order 
to buy a drink. While there he was accosted by a man of foreign 
appearance who turned out to be a Frenchman. This individual 
desired Mr. Clark to grant him a private interview. The favor 
was accorded, and thereupon the Frenchman, whose name was 
Dupre, informed Mr. Clark that he had, after abstruse chemical 
and metallurgical experiments extending over a good many 
years, discovered a formula by which aluminum in combination 
with other elements could be made as tough and as hard as 
Harveyized or Krupp steel, and at considerably reduced cost, and 
also that he had found out a method whereby the white metal 
could be extracted from certain common earths and clays and 
put on the market at about the price of pig iron. Mon. Dupre 
went on to say that he had melted all his small fortune in the ' 
crucible of his laboratory, and that his resources were entirely 
exhausted, but that if Mr. Clark would put up the necessary cash, 
only amounting lo a moderate sum, for taking out the patents 
and providing for his living expenses, that he (Dupre) would 
agree to assign to him one-half the profits arising from the inven- 
tion. At first Joshua Clark was inclined to treat this extra- 
ordinary story as the dream of a crazy scientist whom he looked 
upon as a twentieth century survival of that breed of medieval 


92 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

alchemists who used to waste their time in vain endeavors to 
hit upon the philosopher’s stone or the elixir vitae. But in spite 
of himself he became interested, and finally after further inves- 
tigation perceived that what the Frenchman had been telling him 
was strictly true, and ended by entering into a regular partner- 
ship with Dupre, whose condition was immediately changed from 
one of privation and anxiety to that of comfort and ease. Mr. 
Clark at once threw all his energy and business aptitude into the 
venture, and patents were speedily taken out fully protecting the 
grand inventions in all civilized countries, and the whole world 
was shortly astonished by the brilliancy and far-reaching conse- 
quences of a discovery which would revolutionize the entire hard- 
ware business. Among other important results would be that 
this toughened aluminum, by its great lightness and strength 
combined, would take aerial navigation out of the uncertain 
region of speculation, enable battleships to carry complete suits 
of armor which would defy the projectiles of the most powerful 
guns ; and would greatly increase the speed of steamers and rail- 
road trains by reduction of weight of machinery, and in count- 
less ways would be an immense boon to humanity generally, and 
lastly, of course, the pecuniary results of the invention would 
enrich the patentees beyond the dreams of avarice. Just when 
success of the most dazzling character was at last rewarding his 
long continued efforts Mon. Dupre, who was of a very fragile 
constitution, contracted a violent bronchial affection that after a 
brief illness carried him off. It was hard, very hard, to die thus 
when the goal he had been striving so long and ardently to reach 
was just attained, but it was not to be: like Moses on Mount 
Pisgah, within sight of the promised land, the man of science 
bravely met his fate with the resignation of a true philosopher. 
He never had been married, and his relations in France had long 
ago come to regard him as a demented monomaniac, and had 
completely turned their backs on him. The one living creature 
in the whole wide world whom he loved and respected was his 
friend and partner, Joshua Clark, whom he regarded with grate- 
ful affection as the benefactor who had rescued him from a 
pauper’s grave; and, accordingly, a few days before his death 
Dupre made a will by which he bequeathed all his property (in- 
cluding thereby his half share in the patents) to Joshua Clark. 
The two men had become greatly attached to each other as 
persons of dissimilar characters and dispositions frequently do^ 


Keziah Gets The Hump. 93 

and no tears were ever more honest and sincere than those that 
were shed by the surviving partner, as he stood near the open 
grave of his dead associate. 

Soon after this melancholy event, Joshua Clark, with his 
son and sister (whose name Keziah had a puritan ring in it, and 
seemed well suited to her prim, conscientious, if slightly acidulous 
temperament), came to reside in San Francisco about seven years 
previous to the commencement of my story. He at once set 
about building a house on a considerable estate he had acquired 
near Sutro, which house he intended should knock sparks out of 
any private residence in or about the city. 

His fortune rolled up with giant strides. He had acquired a 
controlling interest in an enormous trust corporation that had 
been formed in Pittsburg, Pa., for the manufacture of the 
white metal; besides this his royalties amounted to a colossal 
annual sum. Jim, the millionaire’s only surviving son, showed 
a considerably greater aptitude for spending than for making 
money. He hated anything like work; and having more cash 
placed at his disposal by his indulgent parent than he could 
possibly need, passed his time either in hunting or in otherwise 
amusing himself. The San Francisco belles in vain kept throw- 
ing their caps at him, he cared very little for society or club 
life, and though rather a rough diamond in some respects, no one 
could say but that Jim Clark was every inch of him a man. He 
was an expert with a rifle or shotgun, but still more so with a 
pistol; indeed, he had acquired the most wonderful proficiency in 
handling a 32-caliber Colt revolver, and could even knock down 
birds on the wing to the astonishment of his male acquaintances, 
who lost considerable moneys in betting against the chance of 
Jim’s performing seemingly almost impossible feats. 

As time went on Joshua Clark naturally wished to see his 
son married, and have an heir to whom the family wealth should 
in due course descend, as he could not disguise from himself that 
Jim, from the manner of the life he led, took great chances of 
being wiped out prematurely. Besides this the old man had con- 
ceived a holy horror lest his only son should contract a hasty 
alliance with some one or other of the Thespian star ladies, who 
in turn temporarily monopolized Jim’s capricious fancy. It may 
be mentioned that Mr. Clark had inherited from his New Eng- 
land ancestors a decided prejudice without discrimination against 
all persons in any way connected with the theatrical profession, 


94 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

The old man had crossed over to the other side more than once 
on business bent, and whilst there had seen enough of English 
ladies to conceive a great liking for them, and he considered that 
a pretty well-bred British maiden would make the best helpmeet 
his son could have, and be the means of steadying him down and 
developing the good qualities that at present were lying mostly 
dormant in him. With this view the anxious father having 
endowed his son with a royal fortune, sent him on a European 
tour, with the twofold object of seeing the world and of selecting 
a wife, with what results we have already seen. 

During one of Joshua’s European trips, about four years 
previous to this, he had become acquainted in London with a cer- 
tain Captain Dawlish, who was home on a furlough from India. 
The old man at the time was looking out for a private secretary, 
and coming to the conclusion that the gallant captain would fill 
the office admirably, made him such an extremely advantageous 
offer, that it led to the warrior resigning his commission in the 
Indian army and attaching himself to the headquarter staff of 
the Californian multi-millionaire. Neither party had since re- 
pented of this step. The old man found it to be a very great 
pull to have always at his beck and call an honorable, energetic 
gentleman who was, moreover, a great acquisition to his house- 
hold from a society point of view. And the ex-captain, whose 
financial resources had been excessively curtailed, now found 
himself in possession of an income far beyond what he could ever 
have hoped for in the ordinary course of events. His duties were 
pleasant and easy, and consisted chiefly in acting as a sort of 
major-domo, and superintending the arrangement of the big 
fetes and entertainments which his hospitably-inclined boss loved 
to give. He also always accompanied Mr. Clark on his travels 
and relieved him of the bother of attending to petty details. He 
had plenty of opportunities of marrying well, but somehow had 
hitherto managed to dodge Cupid’s arrows. Mr. Clark’s maiden 
sister thought a great deal of her brother’s secretary, and as for 
Jim, that eccentric young man literally swore by the ex-captain, 
copied his style of dress, and vainly strove to imitate his well-bred 
insouciance, his gentle courtesy to ladies, and his soft, insinuating 
way of speaking to them that seemed to come natural to him. 
But Jim’s visits to the paternal roof were so short and irregular 
that the benefit accruing to him from the refined companionship 
of the Englishman was not as great or as enduring as it might 


Kcziah Gets The Hump. 95 

otherwise have been. As for Miss Clark, she had shared with 
equal faithfulness and equanimity her brother’s ill and good for- 
tune. But I am pretty sure that she felt easier and happier in 
that frame house on the Sacramento River than she did in the 
marble palace at Sutro. In the former she did the chores, fed the 
chickens, cooked, washed, wore gingham gowns, and used to feel 
pleased and flattered when Joshua at supper, after a hard day’s 
work, praised her broiled roosters and pumpkin pie. Now she 
jiominally presided, attired in black silk or satin, and starched 
magnificence, over a great household. Everything was done for 
her, she really had little or nothing to do, and she sometimes 
longed to cast propriety to the winds and drop on her hands and 
knees and scrub the floor of her elegant bedroom. She knew 
nothing of French cooking or the French language, and if she 
had, she would not have dared to offer advice to Mon. Joseph or 
Mon. Andre, the great French chefs. And as for the English 
housekeeper, that functionary regarded poor Keziah with respect- 
ful pity as a person of lower birth and far inferior breeding to 
herself. But both the housekeeper and head butler (there were 
two, and six footmen, all imported Englishmen) had an un- 
bounded respect for and obeyed with alacrity Captain Dawlish^ not 
so much because he was a fellow-countryman of theirs, but from 
the fact that he was, according to their standard and way of judg- 
ing, a real gentleman. It would harrow the souls of some 
nouveaiix riches if they knew how their small breaks and gauch- 
eries are laughed at and ridiculed down-stairs. Servants are 
quicker to spy errors in breeding than any other class of persons. 
They never fail to detect a crow under its gorgeous covering of 
borrowed peacock’s plumes. People who are not to the manner 
born don’t know how to treat servants. They either bully or 
cringe before them. It is amusing to watch how pitiably afraid 
some rich snob is of his butler whose former masters have been 
men of birth and of cultivated tastes. How he almost defer- 
entially asks his advice about the choice of wine or some point of 
social etiquette. The master and man seem almost to have re- 
versed their relative positions. There is such a thing in the treat- 
ment of inferiors in condition of life as uniform courtesy and con- 
sideration which compel a cheerful obedience without forfeiting 
mutual respect. 

We will now return to Joshua Clark, whom we left restlessly 
wearing away the tesselated pavemeot of his palace with the 


96 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

suppressed energy of a caged tiger. He was evidently greatly 
perturbed about something, and that something, as I have conclu- 
sively shown, could not in any way be connected with the fluctua- 
tions of the money market, nor had it anything to do with his 
health, his looks and general appearance gave the lie direct to 
such a supposition. Well, if we eliminate the above two factors 
from the equation we at once obtain the following result: x 
equals an anxiety for some person or persons unknown, y equals 
love. As I possess in my character of a novelist the awful privi- 
lege of peering into the minds of my characters, of probing their 
motives and intentions and of searching for the causes of molec- 
ular disturbances in the gray matter of their crania, I can at once 
announce that both the above values of x and y are correct 
and that the problem is solved. 

The plain truth is that old man Clark was beginning to get 
nervous about his son from whom he had not heard for quite a 
while, though he had supreme confidence in Jim’s abilit}^ to take 
precious good care of himself. The second cause for trouble 
was ten times as pressing as the first. The daily bulletins he 
had been receiving through the telephone from the manager of 
the Netherland Hotel, New York, respecting Mrs. Fletcher had 
not of late, on the whole, been at all reassuring. They told the 
old man that she was restless, horribly depressed at times, and 
though she had outwardly brightened up a bit the last day or two, 
her maid (so the manager said) had reported that her manner 
was becoming very strange and curious at times, she could not 
sleep, and it was feared she might become mentally deranged. 
This evil news had thoroughly upset the old man, and he felt that 
he must go himself and see if he could not cheer her up. There 
can be no question but that the usually stolid, cool-headed mil- 
lionaire was deeply and desperately in love. 

As he was about to complete the fiftieth lap of his self-imposed 
walk, the door of the morning room opened and a stately looking 
lady of it might be sixty-five years of age, of rather stern aspect, 
though possessed of well-marked features, entered the court. 
She was dressed in black silk and wore an old-fashioned lace cap 
on her gray head. She was far from uncomely even now and 
had an erect commanding carriage. 

“ Joshua,” said she, “ throw away that cigar and come and 
have some lunch. You smoke a great deal too much. I only 


Keziah Gets The Hump. 97 

read the other day of a prominent business man gfetting paralysis, 
and cancer, from over smoking.” 

“ Canker, my dear Keziah, canker in the mouth, tobacco, 
though a slow poison is an antiseptic and could not set up such a 
constitutional malady as cancer. Women are so inexact and 
jump to conclusions, that is why they rarely, if ever, distinguish 
themselves as scientific investigators. There never has been 
nor ever will be a Faraday, a Darwin, a Kelvin, or a Dupre of the 
female gender.” 

The old man said all this in a good-humored, bantering sort 
of way. 

“ You are very fond of running down us women, but I don’t 
know what you men would do without us,” replied Keziah, rather 
snappishly, “ and one thing is certain, however smart you men 
think you are, I guess any good-looking woman with plenty of 
snap to her can twist the cleverest of human trousered bipeds 
around her little finger. And, talking on this subject, it is my 
firm conviction, Joshua, that you are in love, and if you are, 
watch out. There’s no fool like an old fool. You haven’t been 
yourself lately, something is worrying you, what is it? ” 

“ I am anxious about Jim,” replied the millionaire (he had 
begun to suspect that Keziah knew more than he had given her 
credit for). 

“ Oh, fiddlesticks,” replied the spinster, “ the boy can take care 
of himself all right. You needn’t be alarmed about him. Don’t 
try and throw dust in my eyes. There are only two things in 
this world that rattle a man, those are monev and love. As it 
can’t be the former, it must be the latter, isn’t that logic? ” 

“ I will trouble you, Keziah, to mind your own business,” re- 
plied the old man, who felt she was getting him into a corner. 
(He hadn’t mentioned anything about Mrs. Fletcher, either to his 
sister or to his secretary.) “ What I am really anxious to know 
is when Jim is going to be married to that English girl he got 
engaged to in Canterbury, England. The last time I heard 
from him was from Paris, and then he said he was going to 
meet her and her people in New York, and be spliced at Old 
Trinity, Broadway, and come right along here. According to 
what he said he should have turned up with his bride a fortnight 
ago. I can’t quite understand it. I hope Jim is not deceiving 
me. I am always on tenterhooks lest he should marry some 
painted variety actress.” 


98 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

“ I am afraid Jim is a very wicked young man, more fitted to 
be a Turk or a Mormon than a Christian gentleman,” sighed his 
aunt. “ It is really disgraceful the number of letters he receives, 
evidently addressed by feminine hands, it is quite shocking. I 
have seen a pile of these missives by his plate at breakfast. I am 
afraid when he is married that he will be a very faithless hus- 
/ band, and then we shall be disgraced by some dreadful divorce 
scandal.” 

“ Well, well, Keziah, I must say you are a prophet of evil. 
Jim is a great hunter. I admit that when he is not hunting deer 
he is pursuing the dears.” 

“ What a wretched joke, Joshua, on what a solemn subject, too. 
I wonder you can so demean yourself. I wish I could get the 
Rev. Mr. Jaggers to speak to Jim. You know he (Jim) never 
goes to church, and that I am afraid is owing to the example you 
set him, Joshua. I must speak plainly sometimes. You are a 
pair of heathen, both of you. You yourself give loads of money 
to build churches and never enter one of them yourself.” 

“ Preachers are after the dollars all the time,” replied the 
old man. “ If old Jaggers were to interview me about the state 
of my soul, I would get him to sit down, give him some whisky 
and a cigar, have a good talk with him, during which he would 
tell me a naughty story or two, and I would send him away with 
a check for a thousand in his pocket, and he would come to you 
and say what a good Christian your dear brother is. Miss Clark.” 

“ How dare you libel such a holy man ? ” said the indignant 
spinster. “ I am sure Mr. Jaggers does not drink whisky, and 
as for his telling you a naughty story, why it’s a wicked lie.” 

“ Shall I tell you the last he told me after dinner the other 
day?” said the old man, grinning (he had by this time quite 
recovered his spirits). 

“ I won’t listen to your ribaldry, Joshua,” replied his sister. ‘T 
hope God in His mercy will bring you to a consciousness of your 
state of spiritual darkness,” and the good lady flounced out of 
the court, leaving her chuckling brother in possession of the field. 


A Record Breaking Trip. 


99 


CHAPTER XI. 

A RECORD BREAKING TRIP. 

Just as Keziah had retired in a hump to the dining-room to 
refresh the inner woman, and to reflect on the iniquity of man 
in general, another of our personae dramatis entered the court in 
the shape of Mr. Clark’s secretary. Captain Dawlish. He cer- 
tainly was a remarkably fine man, about thirty-two years of age, 
over six feet three inches in height, and turning the scale at 
two hundred and twenty-five pounds, he did not carry any beef, 
and by his light, limber walk and symmetrical build one could see 
at a glance that he combined great strength with activity, and 
would be a very formidable antagonist at close quarters ; in fact, 
he never had met a man, amateur or professional, who was fairly 
his match with the gloves, his awful hitting power combined 
with that quality that is so rare in big men; I mean quickness 
coupled with dogged resolution making him a holy terror to the 
pugilists he almost daily sparred with, for exercise and recreation. 
He had blue eyes, fair hair, a big military looking mustache (the 
rest of his face being clean shaved) and a ruddy, healthy com- 
plexion that stamps an average Englishman all the world over. 
In fact, it is generally easy before he opens his head to pick a 
native of the old country from out of a crowd of passers-by in an 
American city by his healthy appearance. The reason that the 
inhabitants, both female and male, of the great Republic, for the 
most part possess white, thin, bloodless looking countenances, is, 
I believe, because they play the very devil with their digestions 
by perpetually drinking vast quantities of ice water, eating unholy 
masses of pie and candy, and by bolting their food like ostriches. 
Those birds can afford to tamper with their constitutions, since 
a diet of broken glass and hobnails does not seem to materially 
interfere with them, but the stomachs of human beings are not 
made of boiler plating or scrap iron, and certain consideration 
must be shown for their digestive arrangements. Another reason 

LofC. 


100 A 2oth Centmy Cinderella. 

for this national cause of dyspepsia is want of exercise. An 
American business man rides to and from his office. If he has 
to go three or four blocks in the course of the day he must needs 
take his five cents’ worth of physical detriment by jumping on a 
trolley car, he looks upon stairways as obsolete institutions, and 
boasts about the perfection that elevators have arrived at in his 
country. It would be a good thing for the well-being of thou- 
sands of busy men if these ingenious contrivances were not quite 
so perfect. To prove the truth of what I have been saying, I 
merely have to point to the altered appearance of so many indi- 
viduals belonging to the more or less leisured classes in the 
States, since golf, cycling, and tennis have been played with 
that energetic vigor that characterizes everything that is under- 
taken by Uncle Sam’s children. It does one good in strolling up 
Fifth Avenue, New York City, to note the number of pretty girls 
(and how pretty and charming real American girls of the best 
class are to be sure and how chic, too), and robust young men 
with rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and merry smiles. The improve- 
ment in this respect is quite startling. If any of Captain Dawl- 
ish’s remote piratical golden-haired ancestors had suddenly been 
resurrected they would at once have spotted him as a blood rela- 
tion of their own. 

Well, Dawlish, my boy, what’s the news? You are looking 
as bright as a new dollar.” 

“ I’m in pretty good fettle, thank you, sir. I did a five mile 
walk in heavy flannels two minutes under the hour before break- 
fast, and have sparred four three-minute rounds with the Carson 
Clipper since. A precious smart kid he is, but I could have 
knocked him out in two rounds if I had chosen, but I mustn’t 
brag. I shall get knocked out myself one of these days.” 

“ I don’t know who is to do it, my boy,” said the old man, 
laughing. “By the way, I expect you and I will have to get a 
move on in the direction of the Empire City ; I have some impor- 
tant business that will necessitate my presence there.” 

“ Whenever you are ready to start,” replied Dawlish, “ I am. 
One of the advantages of having held a commission in the British 
army is that it teaches one to economize space in packing and 
gets one also in the habit of being always prepared to set out at 
a moment’s notice for any part of the world. The only class of 
men who are as slick in getting ofiP the mark as British army 
officers are King’s Messengers. They are liable to be called up 


lOI 


A Record Breaking Trip. 

in the middle of a winter’s night in their comfortable London 
chambers in the Albany or St. James’, to take government des- 
patches to St. Petersburg, Berlin, or Constantinople.” 

Well, we will go to lunch anyway. I’ve had a bit of a scrap 
with Keziah and must make my peace. You haven’t heard from 
Jim, have you? ” said the old man as he rose from the rocker he 
had thrown himself into since the exit of his sister. 

“ No,” replied Dawlish, “ I haven’t had a line from him since 
he left Canterbury. I can’t make it out. He is pretty good 
about writing generally. How about cabling or ’phoning to 
Rothschilds’ in Paris. He has an account there, perhaps they 
can tell us where he is.” 

“ That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” replied the old man as he and 
Dawlish entered the dining-room. 

“ I am glad. Captain,” said Miss Clark, “ that you have accom- 
plished what was beyond my power, that of persuading my 
brother to eat some lunch.” 

Just as they were taking their seats at the table the butler 
entered the room and said, addressing Mr. Clark : “ Miss Satchell, 
sir, has just informed me that some one wishes to speak with you 
on the long distance ’phone.” 

Miss Satchell, by the way, was the young lady Mr. Clark em- 
ployed to look after the private telegraph and telephone depart- 
ments in his house, and do the stenographic work of himself and 
of his .secretary. Like every one in his employment, she was 
absurdly well paid, and besides was a very good looking, accom- 
plished girl. She had her own private sitting-room en suite 
with her bedroom, and was treated with great consideration like 
one of the family. 

No sooner were the words out of the butler’s mouth than Mr. 
Clark started up and hurried ofif, exclaiming in an agitated 
manner : “ Excuse me, important business.” 

When her brother had left the room, Miss Clark, having first 
directed the servants to retire, said: 

I am afraid my brother has something serious weighing on 
his mind. Have you any idea what the trouble can be, Captain 
Dawlish ? ” 

“ I don’t know any more than you do,” replied the Captain, 
“ but I have noticed that he has been much worried lately. He 
has been called up on the ’phone by some one in New York twice 
and sometimes three times a day for quite a while. The messages 


102 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

come from the Netherland Hotel, Fifth Avenue, as I had to 
inquire on several occasions who it was that was ringing Mr. 
Clark up. From the regularity of these messages, and from the 
fact that it is very seldom that he is rung up on the long dis- 
tance ’phone, as all matters of business connected with Pittsburg 
or Cleveland go first to the office down-town, I conclude that the 
messages in question all come from the same party.” 

“ That shows you have a deductive mind. Captain,” replied the 
spinster, ” and now I recollect it was at the Netherland Hotel 
where my brother was staying the last time he was in New York.” 

“ I wasn’t aware of that,” replied Dawlish. “ As you know 
by Mr. Clark’s orders, I always stop off at Chicago, when I 
go east with him, he calls the Windy City his two-third way 
house, and says I can be of more use to him there than in New 
York. I don’t care much, as I have lots of friends in Chicago. 
Anyway, that’s how it is, and I have my instructions on these 
occasions to ’phone or wire him to care of his New York lawyer, 
Mr. Slocum, of Times Building, Broadway. That’s how I did 
not know at what hotel he was staying.” 

“ If the ’phone messages came from Wall Street, or even from 
Mr. Slocum’s office,” mused Miss Clark, “ we might assume that 
it is a business matter, but coming as they do from a fashionable 
hotel, there can be only one solution to the mystery.” 

At that moment Mr. Clark returned, evidently greatly per- 
turbed. “ We must be off eastward, Dawlish, as soon as we 
can,” said he. 

“ When do we start, sir ? ” replied the Captain. “ I am ready 
when you are.” 

“ That’s where the bother comes in. Mr. Norton, the super- 
tintendent of the Oakland depot, has just ’phoned me that a ter- 
rible blizzard raged last night all over the Sierras, the snow liter- 
ally coming down in chunks. These flurries seem of late to 
extend themselves to lower portions of the mountains than they 
used to. The tunnels through the solid rock completed three 
years ago are an immense advantage over the old wooden sheds 
which used to cost more than a million annually to keep in repair 
and were liable to cave in during the winter months and burn up 
in summer, but there are still sections of the tracks that are liable 
to be blocked more or less by drifting snow. Norton informs 
me that every available man and snow plow, rotatory and 
otherwise, are hard at work, and I have instructed him to double 


A Record Breaking Trip. T03 

the wages of the men at my expense as well as engage every 
pair of strong hands he can find for the job, but labor as they 
may, they cannot get the track clear much before ten o’clock at 
the earliest. There are, I am told, several freight and passenger 
trains snowed up on the Sierras. I say to Hell with all snow- 
storms.” 

“ Joshua,” said Miss Clark severely, ‘‘ you must remember that s 
you occupy the position of a gentleman now, and are no longer a 
stock farmer. You should control your language at least in the 
presence of ladies, besides your remark is irrelevant, as well as 
irreverent. How can it snow in such a place as Hell ? ” 

“ I have no doubt the unfortunate people there wish it did 
sometimes,” said the Captain, laughing, “ as they are not kept 
exactly in cold storage if what we are told in the Bible is correct.” 

“ I am afraid, Captain,” said the aged spinster reprovingly, 

“ that in order to show a feeling of conciliation and courtesy you 
are apt to sometimes encourage my brother in his spirit of levity 
in regard to solemn subjects.” 

“ Oh, dry up, Keziah,” said the old man rudely. “ I am not in 
a humor to be sermonized, and you have no business to lecture 
Dawlish on what he should say or not say.” 

“ I declare, Joshua,” said Miss Clark, “ you are becoming as 
cross as a bear. And why can’t you tell me what the business 
is that takes you away so suddenly? Don’t you suppose that I 
can keep a secret, but I fear it is something discreditable, some- 
thing connected with a woman.” 

“ Oh, I see now,” replied the old man, '' what ails you. Curi- 
osity. There is some old tale I just remember about the first 
woman nabbing a sour pippin in a garden out of pure cussedness, 
or curiosity, or both. It is a womanly failing still I guess, 
whether the old story is true or not, and it is just as profitable a 
work trying to fill a sieve with water as to entrust a secret to a 
woman. No, my dear Keziah, I am not going to tell you the 
business that takes me to New York. All I can say is that it is 
one very intimately connected with my happiness.” 

“ You needn’t say any more, Joshua, you have revealed to me 
your secret. It is as I surmised about a woman, probably a 
designing creature who has an eye for your dollars. Some men, 
especially old ones, enjoy being fooled all the time. I suppose 
you will take the bridal car of your train with you and bring 


104 ^ 2oth Century Cinderella. 

back some impudent little chit of a girl who will order me about 
and mismanage the house.” 

“ I don’t think you do much towards managing the house now, 
Keziah,” replied Joshua^ laughing. “ You can’t do much less 
without going out of the business altogether. Captain Dawlish 
and Mrs. Gunter, the housekeeper, do all the chores, and if I 
bring home a wife I promise you she will be not a little chit, but 
a tall young giantess. So don’t be alarmed on that score, like 
Jim I get stuck on big women.” 

“ Like father like son. I wonder you two don’t go to Turkey 
and set up a joint stock harem. But your bark is worse than 
your bite, you are not so bad as you make yourself out to be,” 
said Miss Clark, sarcastically. 

At this stage Captain Dawlish, by a timely flank movement, 
with masterly adroitness, changed the conversation, and amicable 
relations were once more the order of the day between the brother 
and sister. He (the Captain) had been witness to so many of 
these tiffs that he did not think anything of them, both Mr. and 
Miss Clark were rather cranky in their way — old maids generally 
are, but not more so than old bachelors and widowers. He knew 
by experience that the brother and sister were good, worthy 
folk who really loved and respected each other devotedly, and 
that these outbursts were merely lettings off of so much super- 
fluous steam. In all these harmless encounters Dawlish occupied 
the position of a referee, and when he thought that there had 
been sufficient sparring for one day, he declared the contest 
at an end by introducing a fresh topic, both belligerents knew 
what this meant and (metaphorically speaking) shook hands anti 
took off their gloves. By his tact, judgment, and gentlemanly 
conduct it can readily be conceived that the captain was an 
invaluable addition to the Clark family circle, and it would 
be difficult to say which of the twain loved and respected him 
the most, the millionaire or his spinster sister. 

Aluminum House, the name Joshua Clark had given his pala- 
tial abode, was the scene of feverish activity during the after- 
noon and evening of this day, but that division of time followed 
the example of its predecessors by coming to end in due course. 
Both the old man and his secretary were busy sending and receiv- 
ing messages to and from all sorts of places and persons, with a 
view of clearing the track all the way to New York, in order 
to allow Mr, Clark and his private train to go straight through 


A Record Breaking Trip. 105 

with no interruption. This meant at some points serious inter- 
ference with the ordinary traffic, even entailing the side track- 
ing of express trains, but Mr. Clark was a very important per- 
sonage, a friend not so much of publicans and sinners as of 
presidents and directors of railroads, especially of those of the 
five roads whose records he was about to try and cut. He held an 
of $50,000,000 of common and preferred stocks of the 
Southern Pacific, Union Pacific, Rock Island, Lake Shore, and 
lastly, the New York Central, all of which really forms one road, 
being controlled, like the majority of the trunk roads in the 
States, by that invincible combination composed of the Vander- 
bilts, the Harrimans, the Goulds, and the Morgans. He paid like 
a prince for the privileges he asked for, and the big bugs of trans- 
portation were glad to let him roll over their tracks. By six 
o’clock all arrangements (which if an immediate start had been 
possible would have had to have been made en route) had been 
got through, and Mr. Clark was assured that he would not have 
to complain of the loss of a minute in changing engines, taking 
up water, or from having to wait to have track obstructions re- 
moved. In contemplation of his anticipated enterprise, Mr. 
Clark had had small stacks of hand-picked anthracite coal des- 
patched to the various points he was in the habit of changing 
engines at. Finally he received during the day telegrams and 
’phone messages from the traffic managers of the five roads wish- 
ing him every success. The old man had quite recovered his 
equanimity by dinner time and apologized to his sister for not 
thinking it advisable to take her with him on the trip. 

“ Oh, I will remain at home, in order to welcome you and your 
bride,” said the spinster with a laugh. She decidedly scored 
there. 

Certain of the servants had been told to prepare themselves 
for the journey, namely, the principal butler, three footmen, Mon. ( 
Joseph the head chef, a woman under cook, and two good helps. 

It was approaching the witching hour of midnight when a 
’phone message arrived from Oakland’s depot, saying that the 
track was clear and that the private train was ready to start at 
any time. Two automobiles which were in readiness in the inner 
court were at once boarded, the first by the millionaire and his 
secretary, and the other by the servants, and glided out into the 
night. Just as the house clock that was connected by electricity 
with the great Ligk observatory was striking twelve, Keziah and 


io6 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

her brother parted in the most affectionate manner. Before leav- 
ing the latter slipped a check for $2,000 into her hand to be given 
to the Rev. Mr. Jaggers for his church fund. When the cleric 
received it the next day he observed what a devout man your 
brother is, Miss Clark, and what a zealous churchman, too, which 
remark made that lady (who had an old maid’s predilection for 
clerics, cats and cosies) harbor a dim suspicion that there 
might be, after all, a grain of truth in her brother’s opinion in 
regard to the sincerity of the reverend gentleman, as Joshua had 
only once entered Mr. Jaggers’ church, on the occasion of the 
inauguration ceremony in commemoration of its completion (the 
edifice had been constructed, by the way, entirely at the million- 
aire’s expense). 

The two autos glided at a great pace along the almost perfect 
roads of Golden Park. It was a glorious night, and the serrated 
outlines of the mountains across the beautiful land-locked bay 
looked dim and shadowy. It was fresh without being really 
cold, and the two gentlemen smoked their cigars in silence, enjoy- 
ing their midnight ride. The speed of the electrically propelled 
autos was not materially slackened on entering the precincts of 
the city proper. Mr. Clark was a privileged person, and the rules 
regulating street traffic were nothing to him, and a policeman 
would as soon have thought of running up against the devil 
himself as of arresting old man Clark for furious moting. 
So, within a very moderate space of time the steam ferry was 
reached, and soon afterwards the party entered the Oakland’s 
depot, where they found the Clark private train of seven cars 
drawn up at the departure platform. 

Somehow it had leaked out that the multi-millionaire was going 
to attempt to smash the trans-continental record established by 
himself, so quite a considerable crowd, considering the hour, had 
assembled to give the ambitious magnate a hearty send-off. 
The superintendent was at hand and approached the old man, 
who warmly shook him by the hand, saying as he did so: 

“ I am, indeed, grateful to you, Norton, for all the trouble you 
have taken. I don’t think anything has been forgotten. We 
start punctually at i a. m., which is exactly 4 a. m. in New York, 
both standard times. 

“ I am glad you are pleased, sir,” replied the delighted superin- 
tendent, nervously washing his hands with atmospheric air. ” I 
have done my best. I have heard from the bosses of all the 


107 


A Record Breaking Trip. 

mountain sections between here and Reno, and find that the road, 
after enormous labor, has been quite freed from snow, and there 
will be no more to-night. I have given you, at the traffic man- 
ager’s request, the two most powerful locomotives in the yard, 
with our most skilled and experienced engine men.” 

“ You are a brick, Norton. To show I can appreciate true 
merit, here are two checks for $5,000 each, one for yourself and 
the amount of the other to be divided amongst the employees of 
this station at your discretion. I shall reward the section bosses 
and other persons who assist me all the way from here to New 
York separately,” and not waiting to listen to the most respectful 
thanks of the official, the old man, accompanied by Dawlish, hur- 
ried to the head of the train to inspect the engines that were to 
draw his cars over the first division of the journey. 

The huge locomotives looked as smart and trim as two thor- 
oughbred running horses at the starting post about to strain every 
nerve and sinew in contesting the prize of mastery in some great 
classic race. The man at each throttle and those two whose 
duty is was to feed their respective monsters with hand-picked 
anthracite were fine specimens of their class, and I say delib- 
erately that there are no men who earn their wages and the 
thanks of the public better than railroad engineers and firemen. 
It is no child’s play to fire the furnace of an express engine and 
to handle its throttle, in all kinds of weather, exposed to the pos- 
sibility of every kind of accident. What human quality have not 
these men constantly to display. Self-possession, courage, intel- 
ligence, prudence, strength, audacity, temperance, and resource. 
How seldom is it (more shame to us) that we adequately realize 
how much we owe these heroes (for heroes they are, though, 
perhaps, they themselves are not aware of it). 

But old man Clark belonged to the appreciative few, and 
climbed on to the engine plates of the two locomotives succes- 
sively, and heartily shook the horny hands of these sons of 
Vulcan. 

“ Now, boys,” he cried, you’ve got to do all you know. I 
will give you each $1,000 if you manage to beat the record to 
Reno. We start at one o’clock sharp, the rails will be slippery 
on the up-grade. I hope you have got plenty of sand.’ 

We’ve lots of both kinds sure, your honor,” cried the engineer 
of the first locomotive, a burly Irishman, at which sally both 
Mr. Clark and Captain Dawlish laughed heartily. The men 


io8 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

were half paralyzed at the millionaire’s generosity and vowed in 
their vernacular that they would earn the reward or be eternally 
condemned. And then the old man and his secretary entered the 
train and sought the seclusion of the smoker. 

The train was composed of seven cars. I shall have oc- 
casion to describe further on the whole outfit, which in all 
numbered twelve cars. I shall, therefore, merely remark here 
that this particular section of it which had been selected to convey 
the millionaire, his secretary, eight servants, and two conductors 
to New York City, consisted of a sleeper for the servants, another 
for the use of Mr. Clark and the Captain, and which latter 
comprised large bed and bath-rooms, a private sitting-room, etc. 
The bridal car (of which more later on), a car for cold storage of 
all kinds of provisions, containing also a cellar of wine and ale, 
and a safe for carrying valuables, besides a section for baggage. 
This was followed by most luxurious dining and drawing-room 
cars in order named, and last of all came an elegantly appointed 
smoker. All the cars were each seventy feet in length and con- 
structed of hardened aluminum. 

On the stroke of one o’clock the signal was given and the 
train moved out of the depot into the night amid the plaudits 
of the assembled spectators. Mr. Clark closed his watch with a 
snap and threw himself into a sofa armchair with a sigh of re- 
lief, as he touched an electric bell. 

“ At last we are off,” cried he, “ that’s a good job. A Scotch 
whisky and a split bottle of Schwepp’s soda won’t hurt either of 
us. eh. Captain ? ” 

‘‘ I guess not, sir,” replied Dawlish, lighting a huge black 
cigar. ‘‘ Oh, by the way, here is the evening Examiner, I haven’t 
looked at it yet. No more have you, we were both too busy. Eh, 
what’s this in big type? 'Mysterious disappearance of Mrs. 
Fletcher from the Netherland Hotel, New York City. Supposed 
suicide on account of grief for missing husband who recently 
vanished.’ ” 

He didn’t read any more, as at this point the paper was uncere- 
moniously torn out of his hand by Mr. Clark, who, with eyes 
aflame and budding out of his head, scanned the printed columns 
with horror written on his face and agony in his heart. 

" Great God,” he exclaimed at length, " I shall be too late, 
fool that I was, doubly damned fool, for not going before,” and he 
buried his face in his hands and burst into tears. 


A Record Breaking Trip. 109 

Of course, Dawlish in a moment grasped the situation, but 
with the tact of a true gentleman kept perfect silence and re- 
spected the grief of his chief whom he had never seen affected 
like this. Nothing apparently had had the power to penetrate the 
mask of impassive reserve that generally characterized Mr. 
Clark’s demeanor. However, in a brief time the old man recov- 
ered his self-command, and seeing the uselessness of further con- 
cealment, made a confidant of his companion, knowing that his 
secret would be as safe as if he had breathed it in the ear of a 
marble statue. It appears that the ’phone message Mr. Clark 
had received that morning was of a vague unsatisfactory char- 
acter. The hotel manager had evidently been afraid of telling 
the whole truth, forgetting that his client would speedily be 
acquainted through the press with the real state of affairs. Dawl- 
ish was very sorry for Mr. Clark, knowing what a noble-hearted 
old fellow he really was, so he tried to cheer him up, and at length 
changed the conversation by saying: 

“ We are beginning to travel now, sir, this car swings like 
a pendulum, we are doing over seventy miles an hour. This little 
light bit of a train is a mere nothing to those two powerful 
engines.” 

“ Do you ever say your prayers ? ” observed the old man with 
startling suddenness. 

“ Sometimes,” replied the Englishman, laconically. 

Well, don’t forget to say them before you turn in,” said the 
millionaire, “ and put in one for me, as I have forgotten mine. 
Those four men on those two engines mean to earn their dollars, 
you bet, and will let go everything after we pass the Divide, and 
if they hit a curve too hard, and the flanges go, or the brakes 
give out, then we shall be in the other world (if there is one) 
before we know that we are dead.” 

“ Well, we all have to die some day or other, and it doesn’t 
so much matter when, but this whisky is precious good, the right 
ticket, a sure thing,” replied Dawlish carelessly. 

“ You Englishmen are cool, brave devils,” said the old man, 
“ there’s no phasing you. I was only chaffing, our engineers 
know what they are about.” 

“ Still accidents may and do happen,” said Dawlish, “ when 
least expected. I wonder where old Jim is, he would like to be 
with us now.” 

■‘Perhaps Slocum knows, he is a deep dog, and the best 


no A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

judge of wine and cigars on this continent,” replied the old man, 
who was by this time himself again. 

However, the four engine men coraled those four thousand 
dollars with a few minutes to spare, and everything went 
smoothly, though they did rip and tear down the mountains in a 
manner calculated to bring the heart into the mouth of a timid 
individual, but neither the old man nor his secretary could well 
be included in the category of nervous people, so it didn’t matter 
much. 

I won’t follow the train in its comet-like career across the 
country, or try and depict in glowing language the excitement it 
created en route. Suffice to say that the ordinary business in 
Wall Street was sadly interfered with and that odds were laid 
at six to five on the record being broken, and whole wads of 
bills were staked at that figure by both the Bulls and the Bears, 
and that the daily newspapers issued frequent specials denoting 
the state of the race against time. 

In due course our travelers steamed safely into the Rock 
Island depot, Chicago, well ahead of the scythe bearer, and 
Dawlish, at the old man’s request, stopped ofif at the Windy City, 
to await the course of events and be ready to join his chief if 
circumstances demanded his presence in New York, and Mr. 
Clark continued his now solitary headlong career in the direction 
of the Empire City. 


The Reporter Interviews The Lawyer. 


HI 


CHAPTER XIL 

THE REPORTER INTERVIEWS THE LAWYER. 

We left the two lovers racing along up Fifth Avenue in an 
auto cab, while Mr. Slocum was making his way in the opposite 
direction towards his office feeling very well satisfied with things 
in general, especially with the arrangements he had made relat- 
ing to Jim Clark and his ladylove. But his scheme was within 
an ace of being seriously marred. Even the practised eye of 
the astute man of law had failed to discover the fact that he 
and his client had been cleverly shadowed from the instant that 
they had left his office that morning to go to the Mercy House, 
and that, moreover, the shadower had followed the happy couple 
in a conveyance similar to the one that contained them, keeping 
at a uniform distance of about one hundred yards behind, so as to 
avoid exciting suspicion. 

When Jim and Dora arrived at Strawberry Villa, Yonkers, they 
found Mrs. Slocum ready to receive them, her husband having 
’phoned directly he reached his office that they would shortly 
put in an appearance. She was wildly rejoiced that the lost 
lamb had been found, and the two ladies who seemed to take to 
each other from the word go, shed a few sympathetic tears (as 
true women ought under such circumstances to do) on each 
other’s left shoulders. Dora was delighted to get once more into 
her proper clothes and to cast off the livery of servitude ; though 
she determined always to preserve the said livery, together with 
the long cloak the good Mother had given her, in memory of her 
fearful and extraordinary adventure. When she entered the 
drawing-room attired in a lovely and most becoming costume of 
black velvet and chinchilla, Mrs. Slocum, quite captivated by 
her extreme beauty and charm of manner, exclaimed : 

“ You have robbed old England of her fairest daughter, Mr. 
Clark, but come, you people, to lunch, you must be quite famished. 


II2 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Mrs. Clark, if it is not an overbold question, what did you have 
for breakfast this morning at the hospital ? ” 

“ Oh, only some bread and butter and an egg, the last named 
of which was what the shop people call fresh ; that is, it was not 
more than six weeks old. I concluded that I would not assist 
in setting up in my mind an invincible prejudice against eggs in 
general by eating it. So I frankly own up to possessing, at the 
present moment, a very vulgarly large appetite.” 

While they were busy with their knives and forks, Slocum 
turned up, having attended to several pressing matters at his 
office and then had come right away in an auto cab. After lunch 
the two men had a square talk. It was finally arranged that Jim 
and Dora should go down-town in an auto cab, and having ob- 
tained a new special license in place of the one Jim had had stolen 
along with his other property in the gambling joint, should then 
go on to Old Trinity Church, Broadway, and await there Mr. 
Slocum’s arrival. After the marriage ceremony the happy pair 
were to proceed to the Waldorf-Astoria, at which hotel the 
lawyer had secured a fine suite of apartments for them. All 
their clothes and belongings were to be immediately despatched 
to the Astoria from Strawberry Villa. In due course they were 
to be joined by Mr. and Mrs. Slocum. Dora wrote a note to old 
man Clark, addressed to the care of Uriah Slocum, Esq., Times 
Building, Broadway, and determined to send it by a district 
messenger boy as soon as she and Jim had gone down-town, in 
order that Mr. Clark should be sure and get it on his arrival. 
The letter, on the envelope of which were the words, “ Immediate, 
important,” read as follows: 

Dear Mr. Clark : 

, “ You will see by this that I am still in the land of the living, 

r I saw in the newspapers that you were coming to New York. 
I shall be at home all this evening at the Astoria, where I am 
staying. Come as soon as you can. I shall be charmed to see 
you again and will be ready (how I blush to write it) to give 
you a good kiss for all your kindness to me. I found out the 
address of your lawyer, and thought he was the proper person 
to send this letter to, in order that it should get into your hands 
as speedily as possible. Believe me, 

“ Ever yours most sincerely, 

Dora Fletcher. 


The Reporter Interviews The Law3^er. 113 

P. S. — Please don’t on any account mention my name to 
the hotel clerk, or, in fact, to any one. I shall be registered 
under the pseudonym of Mrs. Others, of San Francisco. I shall 
give instructions at the office of the Astoria to have you shown 
up to my private parlor directly you put in an appearance.” 

This precious epistle was dated, but it had no heading, so 
the old man would have no clue where it came from. Dora wrote 
this letter for two reasons ; the first of which was to relieve the 
old man’s mind of its anxiety about her, and secondly, in order 
that there should be a fine surprise party at the Astoria, as one 
can well imagine. She had not said a word, not even to Jim, or 
to either of the Slocums, about her previous acquaintance with 
Mr. Joshua Clark. Directly Dora heard that Mr. Clark was 
coming to New York she guessed that it must be on her account. 
She had been fully aware of the deep interest she had excited in 
him, as she used when at the Netherland to receive a letter 
from him every day, and she had found out accidentally that con- 
stant telephonic messages were passing between him and the 
manager of the hotel. So she concluded that the former must 
have been dreadfully shocked at her sudden disappearance and 
would most naturally hasten to the scene of action to do all that 
lay in his power to assist in finding her whereabouts. Just when 
the plan of operations had been satisfactorily settled, a servant 
brought in a card, saying that a gentleman desired to see Mr. 
Slocum privately for a few minutes on a subject of importance. 
Jim retired to join Dora in the drawing-room (they were to 
start very shortly) and found Mrs. Slocum purring around his 
darling, admiring her costume and pouring forth a flood of fem- 
inine tittle tattle about dress and fashion. Meanwhile the visitor 
was shown into Mr. Slocum’s private study, which commanded a 
plain view of the drive up to the house, and the porch of the front 
door itself. 

“ I see that you are a reporter of the New York Journal, Mr. 
Simpson,” said Slocum, holding the card in his right hand and 
looking at it and then at his visitor alternately. “ What can I 
do for you ? ” 

“ Well, sir,” replied the reporter, it is in your power to do 
me a great favor which may be the making of me. I want to 
ask you if you have found Dora Fletcher, who was staying re- 
cently at the Netherland Hotel, and whose disappearance has 

8 


1 14 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

caused such a sensation, even exceeding that displayed over the 
spiriting away of her husband nearly three weeks ago. It seems 
that he has come to life again, for I saw him and you arm in arm 
on Second Street this morning, and shortly afterwards an auto 
cab drove up and he got in. From where I was I could see that 
there was a female in the cab, enveloped in a sister of mercy’s 
cloak. I could not see her face, but I had previously observed her 
leaving the Mercy House on Second Street and getting into the 
cab. Now, sir, is this lady still here in this house and is she Mr. 
Fletcher’s wife? I don’t want to be impertinent or intrusive, but 
I know on more than one occasion that you have been very kind 
and generous to members of my profession, and in order to gain 
a living for my family and myself I have to take such chances as 
these. Live and let live is a favorite motto of mine, and I know 
is also yours, too. If you will oblige me in this respect, I will 
place my services at your disposal gratis whenever you may 
happen to require them. Of course, I may say that I recognized 
Mr. Fletcher from his picture in Harper's Weekly, the Sunday 
World, and the Journal. I suppose his wife gave copies of his 
photograph to the police and to the press with the idea of assist- 
ing to discover his whereabouts. I wonder where Fletcher did 
get to, very much ; perhaps you couldn’t tell me that, too ? ” and 
Simpson looked at the great lawyer with a sheepish air of a boy at 
school asking a mate who has just received a goodly hamper of 
eatables from home for a piece of plum cake, when he barely ex- 
pects to get more than an apple, if that. For one brief moment 
Slocum was nonplussed, and rapidly revolved in his mind 
whether or no he should tell the man the truth, the whole truth, 
and nothing but the truth. He did not wish to be rude to this 
inquisitive person. It was one of his rules in life to keep on 
good terms with members of the press, as they wield a power 
before which the pride of monarchs, and even of attorneys, has to 
bend. At the same time he knew he had to be very careful. A 
half truth, or a semi-admission, is far more deceiving than a 
clumsy lie or a bare denial. Having, therefore, rapidly reviewed 
the various pros and cons, the astute lawer decided on the 
answer he must give the reporter, and accordingly made the fol- 
lowing reply : 

“ I must allow you full credit, Mr. Simpson, for having done 
a really smart piece of detective work. I have been often shad- 
owed before, but until this morning I never failed to detect the 


The Reporter Interviews The Lawyer. 115 

shadower. I have always been on the friendliest terms with gen- 
tlemen of your calling” — he could not find it in his heart to 
dignify newspaper reporting by referring to it as a profession. 
Lawyers are extremey tenacious of their privileges and very con- 
servative. In England a solicitor is “ a gentleman ” by act of Par- 
liament, and this sometimes is his only claim to the title. Also in 
the old country where the roots of tradition and custom are 
deeply fixed the liberal professions have always been held to 
consist of the old-fashioned quintette, the Church, the Navy, the 
Army, the Law and Medicine. I have not ascertained if this senti- 
ment obtains to any extent in the United States.” Be this as it 
may, and the matter is one of infinitesimal importance, Slocum 
thought that the word “ calling ” filled the bill, and that is suffi- 
cient. He continued by saying : “ But I am afraid, sir, your time 
and trouble have been thrown away. The girl you saw in the 
cab with the gentleman is not his wife, I can tell you that 
straight.” (As Jim and Dora were not actually married, this was 
strictly true.) “ The name of the gentleman in question is Clark, 
not Fletcher, though I admit that the mistake you made is a par- 
donable one. But such resemblances are not at all uncommon. 
I used myself to be mistaken on the street, for not one, but two 
other men, and could have passed myself off as either with the 
greatest ease and certainty. Well, to resume, Mr. Clark is my 
client and happened to be at my office this morning consulting 
me about a case of his, when I was called up on the 'phone by 
the Mother of the Mercy House on Second Street, saying she 
had got the woman I wanted. The fact is, my wife, out of a 
spirit of philanthropy, has had several hired girls (repentant 
Magdalens) from this hospital recently. They haven’t, as a rule, 
I confess, turned out well, but one must humor the idiosyncra- 
sies of a wife whom you adore. You agree with me, Mr. Simp- 
son, I am sure.” 

“ Certainly, sir,” replied the reporter, “ my wife has a craze 
for parrots, and they haven’t turned out well at all, as they have 
generally been nautical birds.” 

“What genus does a nautical parrot belong to?” replied the 
lawyer. 

“ I mean one,” replied Mr. Simpson, laughing, that has been 
much in the society of sailor men, consequently their language is 
anything but that of a Quaker, being interlarded with oaths and 
startling blasphemies, and so they have had, one by one, to be 


ii6 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

fired in disgrace. The parrot we possess now is a fairly respect- 
able bird.” 

I understand,” said the lawyer, “ and it is almost as hard to 
reform a girl who has led a fast life as it is to change the ver- 
nacular of a swearing parrot. Anyhow, these social experiments 
of my wife do not hurt me and keep her busy, so I continue to 
humor her proclivity. This morning the good Mother said 
through the ’phone that she was sure this particular girl would 
suit, and so I came along and took my client with me, as he had 
a desire to see the inside of the hospital. Well, the girl seemed 
all right as far as I could judge, and having a lot of work to do 
at my office, my client very kindly agreed to accompany her to my 
house, but Mrs. Slocum has since informed me that it really 
would be impossible for her to hire this woman for certain 
reasons, and so she (the woman) is going away to-day. I assure 
you, Mr. Simpson, that this is the unvarnished truth.” 

The reporter looked puzzled, but replied, “ I am quite satisfied, 
sir, your word is good enough for me.” Though he knew Mr. 
Slocum would scorn to tell a deliberate lie, he felt that the astute 
lawyer was overreaching him somehow. Just at that moment, 
Jim appeared on the porch, his auto cab coming up to receive him 
and Dora. The porch was visible, as I have said, from Mr. 
Slocum’s study, but the reporter did not catch a glimpse of Dora, 
for at that instant before she came out, the lawyer rose quickly 
to his feet and pulled down the blind, remarking, ‘‘ What a glare 
the sun makes on the snow.” 

The reporter could see that there was something in the air, and 
determined to follow Jim’s cab, so he arose in a hurry, saying: 

I must be off, I am sorry I was mistaken, and must apologize 
to you, Mr. Slocum, for breaking in upon you in this uncere- 
monious way.” 

“ My dear friend,” replied the lawyer, I don’t want you to go 
yet. I wish to enjoy the pleasure of your society for a whole 
half-hour.” 

“ But I can’t stay, my time is valuable,” cried the reporter 
excitedly. 

“ What do you call valuable ? ” said the lawyer. 

“ Oh, it might be worth $250 an hour,” replied the reporter, 
knowing full well that he had never earned a quarter of that 
amount in the time. 


The Reporter Interviews The Lawyer. 117 

Then I will pay you $500 for the half-hour,” said the lawyer, 
writing out a check and tossing it to Mr. Simpson. 

But the reporter was so keen on trying to be the first to 
solve the problem of the $20,000 reward, that he thought more 
of fame than cash, and said : “ Thank you, sir, it is a splendid 
temptation, but I cannot accept it,” and he had arisen in order 
to leave, when Slocum as quick as a flash rushed to the door 
and locked it, and pulled out his gun, and pointed it straight at 
the reporter’s head, saying : “ Sit down, or you are a dead man. 
I am going to keep you here a prisoner for half an hour as I said 
I would. I shall talk to you about a whole pile of things, and 
give you a lot of valuable information.” 

Beads of sweat appeared on the forehead of the unfortunate re- 
porter as he retook his seat. He was now quite convinced that 
the lawyer was a dangerous lunatic, and that he would have 
to humor him. Slocum put the key of the door into his pocket, 
and then, all the while keeping his eye on his prisoner, opened 
a cabinet and brought out a bottle of old brandy, one of splendid 
King William Scotch whisky, v. o. b., and another of Canadian 
Club, and placed them with a siphon of seltzer and two glasses 
before Mr. Simpson. Then he produced a box of Havana cigars 
of one of the finest brands, took his own seat opposite the reporter 
with a table between them, with his (Slocum’s) back towards 
the door, placed his pistol by his side on the table, and invited 
Mr. Simpson to help himself to the particular liquor that suited 
him best, and to light a cigar. 

“ I pride myself on keeping the best wine, spirits, and cigars 
of any private man in the city of New York,” said Slocum oracu- 
larly. “ I have been several times to Cuba, and know all the 
leading plantations there. I have been over some of the best 
cellars of wine in France, and have visited the principal chateaux 
in the Medoc, namely, Lafite, Leoville, Marguax, etc., and have 
stayed for several weeks at a time at Rheims, the capital of the 
champagne district, and could earn a good income by purchasing 
wine on commission for rich Americans, who, as a rule, are 
lamentably deficient in the science of gastronomy. I don’t want 
to boast, but I believe I can order a dinner against any amateur 
in America.” This was no news to Simpson, as Mr. Slocum was 
as famous as a gourmet as he was a lawyer. From wine and 
food he went into law and told several excellent anecdotes of the 
courts, and gave the reporter such important information con- 


ii8 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

cerning a celebrated libel, as well as a divorce case, that were 
both pending at that moment, that Mr. Simpson forgot all about 
his quest of Dora, took out his notebook and soon had filled quite 
a number of pages with shorthand paragraphs. 

“ Don’t spare the brandy,” said Slocum, helping himself (he 
had a head of iron), “ it is fifty years old. I believe I am the 
only person in New York who has got any, and have been 
offered twenty dollars a bottle for it. I will send you half a. 
dozen, also the same number of boxes of those cigars, if you will 
give me your address.” 

The reporter began to see that if this brilliant man was crazy 
there was considerable method in his insanity. The half-hour 
flew by very quickly, when Mr. Slocum looked at his watch, and 
said: “You can go now, Mr. Simpson, I hope you have not 
spent an altogether unprofitable time. Here are bills amounting 
to another five hundred dollars, so you will have made a cool 
thousand in hard cash, in addition to half a dozen boxes of the 
finest cigars in the world and six bottles of the best brandy, 
besides enjoying my edifying conversation; probably I shall read 
in the Journal a long account of this interview. I don’t care a 
cent so long as you make no mention of Dora. Just take my 
candid advice and drop it. It is no use, you will not find out 
anything; anyhow leave Dora severely alone, and I will be your 
friend and help to make your fortune, but if you monkey with the 
forbidden subject I will ruin you lock, stock and barrel, as sure 
as my name is Uriah Slocum. I will drive you to despair and 
suicide as calmly as I would have shot you an hour ago. If I 
had done the latter, there would not have been anything happen 
to me, as my word would have been taken that you had come 
to blackmail me, and I tell you straight, though I like you and 
am glad that I had not got to kill you, yet if I had done so I 
should have eaten my dinner to-day with just as keen a relish and 
drank my wine with as great a gusto, as if the Journal had not 
lost its ablest reporter. So now we understand each other, and I 
am sure you will not give me occasion for using my power. Fill 
your pockets With those cigars, and have another glass of that 
brandy, it won’t hurt you a wee bit. Thank you, I see your 
private address is on your card. The brandy and cigars shall be 
sent to you by express this very evening.” And Mr. Slocum un- 
locked the door and accompanied the dazed reporter to his cab. 

Mr. Simpson drove away with the firm c^aiviction that the 


The Reporter Interviews The Lawyer. 119 

attorney was perfectly sane, and was one of the most remarkable 
men in the world, and he (Mr. Simpson) determined to follow 
his advice. He was quite stunned with what he knew to be the 
most extraordinary interview he had ever had, or ever would be 
likely to have, even if he lived to the reputed age of Methuselah. 
He met some pals down-town and celebrated on some of the 
$1,000, and arrived at his home in Brooklyn in a state of maudlin 
intoxication, which surprised his wife not a little, as her husband 
was a particularly sober individual as a rule. Next morning the 
brandy and cigars arrived. Mr. Slocum’s word was as good as 
his bond. 


120 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

MARRIAGE. 

What a long time, dear, you were with that man. I saw him 
get in his cab, he seemed quite intoxicated, I am afraid you have 
been making him full,” said Mrs. Slocum to her beloved spouse, as 
she entered his study, after that gentleman had seen Mr. Simpson 
off the premises and had returned to his den. 

“ I was on the point of making him full of lead, instead of 
brandy,” replied the lawyer, “ but I thought it a pity to spoil this 
nice new imported Brussels carpet we bought at Wanamaker’s, 
with anything so vulgar as a reporter’s brains. The idiot ! Fancy 
his coming right into the lion’s den, to interview me about Jim 
and Dora, when he had the game in his hands. If he had waited 
till they came out, and followed them to Trinity Church, and 
then to the Astoria, and quietly asked the hotel clerk, he would 
have discovered their real names. He knew Jim before as Mr. 
Fletcher, and he could easily have waited for an opportunity of 
kodakking Mrs. Clark, and taking the photo to the Netherland 
Hotel, and so have identified her as the Dora Fletcher of the 
advertisement. What a lucky thing that he made the only mis- 
take it was possible for him to make. I was pretty smart in pull- 
ing down the blind, and so prevented his seeing Dora as she came 
out on the porch.” 

Mrs. Slocum knew what a bold resolute man her husband was, 
and admired and literally adored him. She knew also that 
though he was a kind, noble fellow, woe betide the man who 
crossed his path, or intentionally ran up against him. So she 
replied : 

“ I am very glad you hadn’t to kill the man, but I shouldn’t 
have blamed you, darling, if you had done so, you would have 
been defending that sweet lovely girl. What a dream she is, and 
how happy they are. It does one good to see them.” 

“ I must race down-town now,” replied her husband. “ They 


Marriage. 12 1 

will be waiting for me at the church, as I have to give Dora 
away, and to witness the signatures in the register. They are 
going to stay at the Waldorf-Astoria, where that wonderful old 
crank Josh Clark will be arriving this evening. Just express 
to the address on this card half a dozen of my best brandy, and 
also six boxes of the Rothschild cigars. This is part of the 
reporter's bribe. Also send off Dora’s things to the Astoria, 
and the rest of Jim Clark’s traps, and come yourself in time 
for dinner at 8 p. m. By the way, Jim insists on giving me 
$50,000 for my services. I will give you $10,000 of it, Bella ; it is 
a bit of a windfall.” 

“ How good of you, darling,” said his wife. “ Won’t I get 
some lovely frocks and things.” These two were as devoted to 
each other as Dora and Jim were. It takes a real man to thor- 
oughly ensnare a woman’s affections. 

Our happy couple, after a delightful drive down-town, made 
their first stop at Tiffany’s, where Jim alighted to buy a wedding 
ring. He took half a dozen, so as to be able to fit Dora’s finger, 
and then they proceeded to the office, where Jim had obtained the 
special license. He left Dora in the cab and went in by himself, 
and saw the same clerk who had made out the former one. Jim 
said : “ Oh, I bought a special license in this office nearly three 
weeks ago, but the marriage was unavoidably postponed ; in the 
meanwhile I lost the document, it must have fallen from my 
pocket. I didn’t trouble about it because I thought it was highly 
probable that I should never require it, as an unforeseen difficulty 
in the way of my being married arose directly afterwards. How- 
ever, this obstacle has been happily removed, and we are, going 
to be united to-day. I shall require you to make out another 
license to the same parties,” and he handed to the clerk a piece 
of paper, on which were written the names of himself and Dora, 
namely, James Clark, of San Francisco, Cal., and Dora Leighton, 
of Canterbury, England. ^ 

“ This is curious,” said the clerk. “ A few days ago a man 
came into this office with your lost license. He said he had 
picked it up on the street.” The clerk then described the appear- 
ance of the man, and Jim recognized from the description one 
of the gang of gamblers with whom he was playing at the tough 
joint where he nearly lost his life. Gamblers are notoriously 
superstitious, and the man who had been through Jim’s clothes 
found the document in the breast pocket of his overcoat. The 


122 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

gambler did not destroy it, he thought it would be unlucky to do 
so, as it was a church affair. He first tried using it as a mascot, 
instead of a rabbit’s foot he usually carried, but it seemed only 
to bring him atrociously bad luck, so one day he took it into his 
head to leave it at the office where it had been orig'nally obtained. 
Jim’s surprise and delight at recovering the document was so 
great that he laid down fifty dollars on the desk. 

“ What’s that for? ” said the astonished clerk, “ you have paid 
for it once.” 

That’s a little present for yourself for luck’s sake,” replied 
Jim, and not waiting to receive the clerk’s thanks, he left the office 
and rejoined Dora. She was equally pleased with him at the 
recovery of the instrument, as it might have given rise to all sorts 
of unpleasantness if it had got into the wrong hands. 

They soon arrived at Old Trinity, and waited in the vestry 
for the appearance of Slocum and the rector. Over her face 
Dora wore a thick white veil dotted with black spots, her head 
was adorned by a big black velvet picture hat, turned up on one 
side and trimmed with chinchilla and white ostrich feathers, and 
it suited her to a marvel. 

“ The rector will never be able to recognize me, a spotted 
veil is as good as a mask for concealing one’s identity,” said 
Dora to Jim. 

“ Now, darling, don’t untie it, the rector might come in.” 

She raised it, however, sufficiently to expose her ruby pouting 
lips, which were speedily united to those of Jim’s, as he sat with 
his arms round her and with one eye on the door. 

“ Well, I don’t know that if it would be very tough if we were 
caught kissing,” said Jim. “Just think what we have been 
through, darling, and all by my fault, too. Oh, I can never forgive 
myself, pet, for having caused you such terrible trouble ; the only 
reparation I can make to you is by a livelong devotion.” 

“ You punished yourself as much as you did me,” replied Dora, 
“ but don’t you think, dear, this awful trial will be for our 
ultimate good? I think we shall love and appreciate each other 
all the more. There is a sweet little ballad called ‘ Cleansing 
Fires ’ (I will sing it to you one day), that I think will explain 
what I mean. By the way, Jim, will you let me have a master to 
cultivate my poor little voice ? ” 

“ You shall have the greatest master this earth produces, even 
if he charges a thousand dollars an hour/’ exclaimed Jim pas- 


Marriage. 123 

sionately, once more raising Dora’s veil. “ Though I am awfully 
glad we are going to be married after all in Old Trinity, I shall 
be tarnally pleased when we skate out of this edifice.” 

“ Why, dear? ” said Dora. 

“ Because you can then take off this blessed veil, and I can kiss 
your eyes, cheeks, and nose, as well as your sweet little mouth.” 

“ I am quite shocked at you, Jim,” said Dora, laughing, “ re- 
member we are in a church. Anyway, you will have to put up 
with my lips for a time.” 

They did not speak for quite a while, as the said lips were 
busy with other work than talking. After that Jim amused him- 
self by experimenting with the wedding rings he got at Tiffany’s, 
and at last discovered one that fitted Dora’s finger exactly. Then 
she said : 

“ I believe this is the very couch they laid me on when they 
brought me in here. Sister Agnes told me all about it. I have 
just a dim remembrance of this room with the form of the good 
rector standing there, and the dear sister bending over me, but 
here is Mr. Slocum,” as that gentleman entered the vestry. The 
happy couple were greatly amused at the lawyer’s recital of his 
treatment of the reporter. 

“ I have squared him, and besides, he dare not inquire into 
the matter,” said Slocum, decisively. 

“ That puts me under one more obligation. Judge,” said Jim. 

You are as smart as a whip and no mistake.” 

“ I have a good scheme,” said Dora. “ After the ceremony, 
when we are by ourselves, I will take off my veil, and let the rector 
recognize me. We can trust him, can’t we, Mr. Slocum?” 

“ Oh, yes, he is as right as rain,” replied the lawyer, “ it will be 
highly dramatic.” 

The arrival of the rector put a stop to the conversation and 
the party then entered the church. The rector read the beautiful 
marriage service of the Episcopal Church of the United States, 
and the happy couple knelt on the steps leading to the Communion 
table and Jim vowed that he would love and cherish Dora Leigh- 
ton, and endow her with all his worldly goods, and she, on her 
part, vowed that she would love and obey James Clark, for richer 
or poorer, in health or sickness, till death did them part, and Jim 
placed the ring on the third finger of Dora’s left hand, and 
Slocum gave away the bride without doing the sam.e for himself. 
The rector pronounced his blessing and the organ pealed forth 


124 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Mendelssohn’s glorious wedding march, and then the little party, 
including the verger, adjourned to the vestry for the newly-mar- 
ried couple to sign their names in the parish register. When that 
was done, Slocum and the verger attached their signatures as 
witnesses. When the last named had withdrawn, the rector said : 

“ Before we part I cannot help mentioning a scene that occurred 
in this very room only four days ago, which will ever be engraved 
on my memory. I had remained here till quite late, as I had cer- 
tain parish work to do, as well as to make several searches in this 
register. Having completed my labors I prepared to quit. I went 
outside and locked the church door behind me, but in descending 
the steps of the church I stumbled and nearly fell over the huddled 
up body of a woman half buried in the snow. I raised her up and 
found life was not extinct, but she would soon have been killed 
by the cold. You all know what a terrible blizzard was raging that 
night. I called to my assistance a passing policeman, who volun- 
teered to carry the senseless girl in here. While I was unlocking 
the church door, at that moment a sister of mercy belonging to the 
Mercy House on Second Street happened to come up. She at once 
offered her assistance. We brought the inanimate girl in here and 
laid her on that very couch whereon you, Mrs. Clark, are now sit- 
ting. The exertions of the good sister, assisted materially by the 
contents of a certain black bottle in that cupboard, rescued the 
poor creature from that fatal drowsy stupor, the sure precursor of 
death. She was evidently of gentle birth, and the most beautiful 
girl I ever saw in my life, with glorious masses of golden hair, just 
like yours, Mrs. Clark. Indeed, you strangely remind me of her. 
It is a curious coincidence that two ladies so similar in appear- 
ance, and so different in position and attire, should have been in 
my church under such strangely different circumstances within so 
short a period. It was only this very afternoon that I was inquir- 
ing about her at the Mercy House. The Mother Superior said 
that Sister Incognita (for that is the name she had given the 
poor thing) had left the hospital this very morning. It was this 
that made me late in my appointment with you, Mr. and Mrs. 
Clark.” 

While the rector was speaking Jim had seated himself at the 
table and was writing, and Dora was engaged in trying to unfasten 
her veil that was tied in a knot behind the coils of her luxuriant 
hair. 

“ Jim, come and help me,” said she. 


Marriage. 125 

Let me do the job,” said the gallant lawyer. '' Mrs. Slocum 
keeps my hands in at this sort of work.” 

As he spoke the lawyer skilfully unraveled the tangle after two 
or three false starts, and was not obliged to imitate with his pen- 
knife Alexander the Great, who cut the Gordian knot with his 
sword, as old Plutarch relates. When Dora’s lovely face was at 
length fully revealed, she said : 

“ Rector, do you recognize me now ? ” , 

“ Good God,” exclaimed the worthy man, actually staggering 
back with surprise, “ Sister Incognita.” 

“ And Dora Fletcher,” added Jim, rising up. 

“ The good Mother of the Mercy House,” chimed in Slocum, 
well and truly earnel the $20,000 reward which I paid her this 
morning on behalf of my client, Mr. James Clark.” 

” Alias Fletcher, alias Smith,” put in Jim, laughing. “ I have 
as many aliases as a bank robber. But, my dear rector, I owe you 
a debt I can never repay, you saved my darling wife’s life. I may 
as well tell you that we were previously married in Europe under 
the assumed name of Fletcher, which circumstance rendered 
necessary the ceremony you have performed to-day,” added Jim. 
He said this in order to clear his wife’s reputation in the good 
rector’s eyes. (It was a safe and very pardonable white lie.) 

“ But I do not also forget the policeman and the owner of the 
black bottle, so here is a check for $100,000. Please give the 
policeman $25,000, anl tell him it is a thank-oflfering for Dora’s 
sake. Is the verger married ? ” 

“ No,” replied the rector mechanically, he was still standing half 
stupefied with amazement. 

“ Well,” continued Jim, “ I want him pensioned ofif with the 
interest of another $25,000, which money at his death will revert 
to the church. I give you the balance, $50,000, to do as you like 
with. Perhaps you might form a fund for the relief of destitute 
wanderers in this great city. Both my father and I will soon make * 
it grow to pretty big figures. All I ask, rector, is that what 
has been revealed to you respecting this lady to-day you will 
always preserve as a sacred secret.” 

The rector raised a Testament to his lips, and said solemnly: 

I swear it ever shall be in the name of the Holy Trinity. And 
now I cannot sufficiently thank you, Mr. Clark, for your munifi- 
cence. Your wishes shall be carried out to the very letter. The 
money shall be applied as you wish, and the fund, called the 


126 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

‘ Dora/ for the relief of the destitute, shall be instituted forthwith. 
I will also follow out your instructions in respect to the policeman 
and the verger. The former, poor fellow, will go wild with joy, 
as his one hope has been to save sufficient money to return to ‘ Quid 
Oireland,’ and buy a little farm in his native county of Tipperary. 
This money will make him rich, and he will be enabled to live like 
a ' gintleman,’ as he would say. As for the verger, he is getting 
old, and, I am grieved to say, somewhat intemperate. He has been 
a long time here, but I was seriously thinking of pensioning him 
off myself. With your leave, Mr. Clark, I will suggest a rider to 
your scheme, that the $25,000 to provide the pension be invested 
along with the other money in the names of the trustees of the 
church, and the interest of the former sum paid to the verger 
during his life, and after his death that it be paid into our poor 
box (the calls upon us in winter far exceed the limited means at 
our disposal) until the time comes to pension another verger.” 

“ All right, sir, I am ready to agree to anything you may 
suggest,” said Jim, ‘‘ but it was lucky for my darling that your 
verger was a bit of a boozer, otherwise there would have been no 
black bottle in the cupboard and she may have died from sheer 
exhaustion.” 

“ There has been a lot of talk about this black bottle,” said 
Slocum, “ let us have a look at it, you ought to annex it, Jim, and 
have a case made for it of virgin Californian gold, and hand it 
down to your children as an heirloom.” 

“Wouldn’t that be encouraging intemperance, Mr. Slocum?” 
said Dora, laughing. 

“ Well, we will begin by encouraging it now,” replied the 
lawyer, as the rector opened the cupboard and took from thence the 
black bottle. 

“ Give it to me, rector ; why, it is half full now, prime good 
Scotch, too. But I shrewdly suspect that this is not the identical 
flask, or the verger is a more sober person than you suppose. 
Have you a glass and some water? We will drink to the health 
and prosperity of the happy pair, of the rector of Trinity, the 
Mother Superior, Pat the policeman, and the drunken verger, who 
I hope will live many years to consume many another bottle of 
good King William, and also not forgetting our noble selves, and 
more especially Dora,” said the lawyer, bowing low to Mrs. Clark. 

“ There has been many a vestry meeting held in this room,” 
said the rector, after the toast had been duly honored, “ since 


Marriage. 127 

Old Trinity was first built, but never a more remarkable one than 
that which we are just adjourning sine die” 

“ Well, good-by, rector, my blessing on you,” said Jim, as 
both he and Dora, as well as Slocum, shook hands with the cleric, 
who hardly seemed to have recovered from the shock of recogniz- 
ing in this lovely, richly dressed lady, the poor unfortunate he had 
helped to rescue from a miserable death. 

“ Come and give us a look up at the Waldorf-Astoria,” said 
Jim. “ We shall be staying there with my dad, the aluminum 
king. Dora will most certainly expect you, and you will always 
be a too welcome visitor.” 

“ And don’t forget the black bottle,” said Slocum, as a parting 
shot, “ when the verger has finished its contents.” 

When the trio found themselves on the street, Slocum said : 
“ Now, my two young honeymooners, I must go to my office for a 
while, as I have some important business to attend to. There’s 
a whole mass of arrears in consequence of my having had the 
task of getting you young people to toe the mark in this church. I 
dare say you can amuse yourselves for a bit. I will turn up at 
the Astoria in time to meet your father, Jim. So long,” said 
the lawyer, taking off his hat and making a profound bow to Dora, 
as he boarded his cab en route for his office. 

“ There goes one of the cleverest, kindest, gamest chaps on this 
round world,” exclaimed Jim. 

“ I echo that sentiment,” replied Dora, and isn’t his wife 
nice and charming, too? Now where are we going, Jim? ” 

“ Well, we will take a jeweler’s and a fur store on our way to 
the Astoria,” replied her husband, as they seated themselves in 
their auto cab, Jim shouting to the driver as they did so : “ Tif- 
fany’s.” 

“ I feel,” said Dora, “ as if I had been dead and have just 
begun a new life with you, love. I am afraid we shall be tempt- 
ing Providence by having more than our fair share of happiness. 
Is there such a thing as being too happy, Jim dear? ” 

“ I don’t know,” replied her husband, “ but I feel like a steam 
boiler without a safety valve, and a pressure of two hundred 
pounds to the square inch, ready to blow up sky high. You are 
the darlingest, brightest pebble that ever was on any beach, my 
own Dora.” 

Jim was well known at Tiffany’s, where he had been a princely 
customer in times gone by, when he loved to deck out his tern- 


128 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

porary favorites in costly dresses and jewels. These ephemeral 
liaisons had left no permanent impressions on his heart, and it is 
safe to say that though others had figured as his sultanas and 
competed for his favors amongst a crowd of lesser stars, never 
before had he experienced the exquisite pleasure of a perfect, undi- 
vided, enduring love, as pure as drops of dew on a rose leaf, and as 
true and constant as the needle to the pole. Other women had only 
attracted his senses, Dora enchained his mind and soul as well. 
One of the partners at Tiffany’s waited personally on Jim and 
his fair bride, and like the scribe in the New Testament, brought 
out from his treasury things new and old. Having selected a 
splendid diamond tiara and a necklace, fit for an empress, many 
bracelets, bangles, rings, suns and smaller trifles, Dora asked to be 
shown the finest diamond bracelet they had in the store, also two 
costly jeweled gold crosses to wear around the neck, and finally 
a splendid gold chronograph watch for a gentleman. While Jim 
was drawing a check for a very large amount in payment of his 
purchases, Mr. Tiffany confided to him that he considered Dora 
was the most beautiful lady who had ever entered his store. 

“ That is a pretty tall order, Mr. Tiffany, but you are not far 
from the truth, anyway my wife is the loveliest, sweetest woman I 
have ever seen, and that is enough for me.” 

Before they left Mr. Tiffany presented to Dora an exquisite 
little jeweled gold repeater watch, as a wedding present from 
the firm, to Dora’s great delight. 

They next adjourned to a celebrated store on Broadway, and 
with Dora’s approval, Jim purchased some valuable furs. Among 
them was a very costly Alaska seal coat, and a cape, muff, and 
neck fur of Russian sable. The shop assistant who was serving 
them said they were by far the finest skins of their kind they 
had ever been able to obtain and that they had not their equal in 
America. When Jim and Dora had arrived at the Astoria they 
. went at once to their private apartments. 

“ Wasn’t it lucky,” said Jim, ‘‘ getting those furs, exact dupli- 
cates of the ones you were robbed of? It is true they cost double 
what the others did at Poland’s at Oxford Street, London, but 
that doesn’t cut any ice.” 

“ They are the same,” replied Dora quietly. 

“ Great Scot, how do you know, pet ? ” 

She opened the parcel and showed her wondering husband some 
ti^ little imtials she had worked on the silk in the lining, so small 


Marriage. 129 

that they could easily have been passed unnoticed. The thieves 
must have sold the furs to some second-hand clothes dealer, who, 
knowing their value, disposed of them to the great Broadway 
people. Dora had only worn the furs a very few times, so they 
were practically new. Though Jim was angry at first, at this 
sharp practice on the part of the furriers, his wrath soon subsided 
when he saw how pleased his Dora was to recover her stolen 
property. 

“ I mustn’t wear them here in New York,” said she, “ or I will 
have some people kidnapping me, and taking me to Mr. Slocum’s 
office in order to claim the reward.” 

“ I shan’t leave you out of my sight,” said Jim. 

“ It is I who should not let you stray away, Jim ; remember it 
was you who disappeared first.” 

“ That’s right,” replied her husband, and I repeat here the 
solemn vow I made on the ‘ Gigantic,’ that I will never gamble 
again, except when you give me permission, but we will play a 
quiet game of poker or picquet sometimes by ourselves, my pet, 
with kisses for stakes.” 

“ I am afraid that there would not be much play, darling,” 
replied Dora, “ we should be settling our scores all the time. 
But now I will order up some tea, and you shall smoke a cigar, 
and I will indulge in a cigarette, and then we will start right away 
dressing for dinner. Our luggage is arrived and my maid is 
waiting for me to select the gown I shall wear. I must get 
myself up smart and wear the diamonds you bought for me to-day. 
I think your suggestion is good that we shall all dine together 
in private. Mr. and Mrs. Slocum and your noble father will be 
here directly, so we haven’t much time to spare.” 

“ The old man will be surprised at finding what a glorious wife 
I have got.” 

“ I think he will, darling,” demurely replied Dora, “ and a little 
more than you suppose, dear,” was her mental comment, as she 
sweetly returned her husband’s ardent caress. 

9 


130 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

MYSTIFICATION. 

The newly wedded couple had not entered their private suite 
of apartments at the Astoria much more than an hour, when there 
bustled into the office of that great hotel no less a person than 
the aluminum king. He appeared to be in a prodigious flurry as 
he rather nervously asked in a somewhat hesitating voice (as if 
he were enunciating something that he was ashamed of) if there 
were any letters or messages for him. 

“ Yes, sir,” replied the clerk with a half smile, “ a lady, 
a certain Mrs. A. N. Others, who is staying here desired me to 
let her know the very minute you arrived. I will inform her and 
then communicate her wishes to you.” 

Accordingly the official, to whom the multi-millionaire was a 
very familiar and highly respected figure, moved away to the 
^phone, and shortly returned and said : 

“ The lady is at present dressing for dinner, sir, but desires 
me to ask you with her compliments to kindly come up to her 
private parlor and wait for her there. She also says that she has 
some friends coming to dine with her this evening and requests 
the pleasure of your company. The number of her parlor is 267.” 

“ Please tell her, with my compliments,” replied the old man 
(evidently as pleased as Punch), “ that I have the very greatest 
pleasure in accepting her kind invitation,” and he opened the 
hotel book to register. In looking over the names of the guests 
he soon perceived that of Mrs. A. N. Others, of San Francisco, 
Cal., among the list of arrivals for that day, but he did not see 
the signatures of our happy couple for the very good reason 
they did not happen to be inscribed in that wonderful collection 
of autographs, since Jim and Dora, acting under Slocum’s 
advice, had refrained from registering, in order that during their 
short stay in New York their privacy should not be invaded more 
than was absolutely necessary. Just as Mr. Clark had closed the 


Marriage. 13 1 

huge volume and was preparing to follow a bellboy to the elevator, 
the manager of the hotel came up, accompanied by a whole crowd 
of prominent citizens in the shape of great Wall Street operators, 
and other stars in the commercial firmament, and amid great hand- 
shaking he was fairly overwhelmed with congratulations, for al- 
ready the intelligence of the race had circulated everywhere, and 
outside on Broadway newsboys were making night hideous with 
their discordant cries, and selling their special editions by the 
hundred, with big letter heavily leaded headlines, “ End of Great 
Train Race,” “ Arrival of Joshua Clark. All records for trans- 
continental traveling beaten.” So it was no wonder that the old 
man soon became the center of an admiring crowd in the office of 
the Astoria, and so carried away was he by the consciousness of 
his triumph and the personal vanity (his weak point) which it en- 
gendered, that his ardent desire to see his beloved Mrs. Fletcher 
was put in the shade and postponed to the (for the moment) 
stronger one of bragging about his exploit. 

“ It seems to me,” said the manager, “ that you have made a 
pretty slick run across, sir ? ” 

“ You bet I have,” replied the old man. We raced every inch 
of the way, this trip will cost me about $100,000, but I have set up 
a record that will be hard to beat, though the snow bothered us 
occasionally and in some places the rails were a bit slippery.” 

“What was the time, Mr. Clark?” said a well-known Jewish 
. financier. 

“ Two days, fourteen hours, twenty-three minutes, thirty-seven 
and three-fifths seconds by my English gold chronometer stop 
watch made by Dent for which I paid $750, the most perfect bit of 
mechanism in this all-fired country. I have got the business of 
railroad traveling with my aluminum train down to a fine point, I 
can tell you all, and nothing in God’s creation will be able to whip 
me except it be airships, and it will be some time before they be- 
come practical propositions.” 

“ But how about trains driven by compressed air on single rail 
tracks. They say they can reach a speed of one hundred and fifty 
miles an hour,” said a big railway bug. 

“ Well, sir,” replied our undaunted millionaire, “ I take no 
stock in short distance spells. I will have my own special single 
track train when necessary and keep ahead of all competitors. Eve 
got the cash and the grit, gentlemen, and that combination takes 
a whole lot of beating.” 


132 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

“ Hurrah for the old man ! You are the right sort, a real bully 
boy, we will run you for President,’’ cried a great down-town 
broker, slapping him on the back. “ My crowd won over a million 
on the race. Come down to the Stock Exchange to-morrow and 
we will give you the biggest reception ever known.” 

“ Thank you, boss, I guess I will show up if I can,” said 
the old man. “ You should just have seen the crowd in the depot 
as my train came in. I had the president and traffic manager of 
the New York Central with me, and Gee Whiz ! we slid along like 
greased lightning from Albany, where they boarded the train. I 
had to make a short speech, and am not a Henry Clay or Daniel 
Webster at the jawing game either, but it didn’t matter as I 
couldn’t hear myself speak for the cheering, and you would have 
thought the roof of the Central was lifting off with the ear-split- 
ting yells when the four engine men of the two great locomotives 
that had drawn us from Albany came up, and I presented them 
with a thousand dollars each, that they had fairly earned by beat- 
ing the record for their section by three minutes and forty-three 
seconds. But by the Hokey, here’s the man I was looking for,” 
cried the old man, as Slocum made his way to where he was 
standing. 

“ Well, Judge, and how are you, my boy? You are looking as 
spruce as a new pin ; all got up to the nines, too. Going to dine 
with the boss of Tammany, I suppose?” 

The lawyer joined heartily in the general laugh that this 
observation caused amongst the group of interested bystanders. 
“ I can return the compliment, sir,” said he, “ train racing doesn’t 
seem to hurt your health, though I confess it would try the nerves 
of some, but I am going to make a call up-stairs on some friends 
I guess you will be glad to see also.” 

“ By Gosh, that reminds me,” said Mr. Clark, that I have a 
very pressing engagement of the same nature, too, so we had 
better go up together. Gentlemen, I must thank you for all your 
good wishes and for the pretty speeches you have made, and, Mr. 
Manager, it is my desire that no one in this hotel pays a cent 
for champagne this evening. I will stand the whole crowd even if 
it cleans your cellars out.” 

This was doing things on a truly magnificent scale and the 
manager bowed low, and the lavish eccentric offer caused a volley 
of cheers and laughter as the Western Croesus and his legal adviser 
made their way to the elevator. 


Marriage. 133 

As they stepped in, the old man said : “ I forgot to ask you 
where my son is, your wire did not inform me.” 

“ Oh, he will show up soon doubtless,” replied the lawyer 
evasively. He had been asked by Dora not to say anything about 
the position of affairs, in order to give the old man a startler. 
It so happened that Mr. Clark had not seen the $20,000 advertise- 
ment in the New York papers, he was on the train at the time and 
so was in ignorance that Slocum had had anything to do with the 
finding of Dora, and as I have said, Dora hadn’t said a word to 
Slocum about her previous acquaintance at the Netherland Hotel 
with the old man. 

” I guess. Judge,” said the millionaire, “ that our friends are 
located near each other,” as he and Slocum both stepped out of the 
elevator on the same floor. \ 

“ It seems like it, sir,” replied Slocum, who was most con- 
siderably mystified when they stopped at No. 267, by his com- 
panion exclaiming: 

“ Why, by Gosh, Judge, this is the very suite I was bound for 
myself, unless that damned clerk has been jollying me.” 

“ There is something here I cannot understand,” said Slocum, 
as they entered a very handsome private drawing-room, which 
was untenanted, since both Jim and Dora were at the moment 
engaged in dressing for dinner. 

“ What is the name of the parties you were going to see ? ” 
Mrs. A. N. Others, of San Francisco,” replied the old man. 
A gleam of amused intelligence irradiated the intellectual coun- 
tenance of the lawyer as he replied : 

“It is a singular name, I must confess, Mr. Clark, very un- 
usual, very,” repeated he in a musing manner as if he thought a 
deal more than he cared to express. 

At that moment a door opened and Dora appeared in the 
fullest of full evening war paint. She wore a beautiful princess 
dress of gray panne velvet, trimmed with silver fox, and on 
her head and neck glittered the magnificent diamond tiara and 
necklace Jim had just paid a fortune for at Tiffany’s. 

“ Mrs. Fletcher, I mean Mrs. Others ! ” exclaimed the old man, 
rapturously, as he rose from his seat and advancing to meet her 
with both hands outstretched. “ Oh, how glad I am to see you, 
how perfectly divine you look,” and disregarding the presence of 
the astonished lawyer, he dropped his right knee on the carpet and 
seized her hand and pressed it fervently to his lips. 


13“^ A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

At that moment Jim entered the room. The old man on seeing 
his son regained his feet, and, after shaking hands with him, 
exclaimed : “ Why, Jim, I am right glad to see you, my boy, but 
excuse me, how is this that I find you in Mrs. Others’ suite, 
and coming too from her bedroom ; you certainly appear to know 
my son, Mrs. Others, very intimately. How is this, Slocum, for 
you seem to know Mrs. Others, too? ” 

“ What on earth do you mean. Daddy? You are crazy,” said 
Jim. “ This lady is my wife, so I have surely a right in her 
apartments.” 

“ Your wife,” replied the old man. “ Then, madam, how is it 
you told me your name was Fletcher when I met you at the Neth- 
erland Hotel ? ” 

“ Have you met Mrs. Clark before, sir ? ” said the lawyer, who 
was as much puzzled as any of the trio. 

‘‘ How long, Dora, have you known my father? ” said Jim, im- 
petuously. 

All this time Dora was laughing till she was quite exhausted, 
while the three puzzled men stood staring at her in bewilderment 
waiting for an explanation. At length she said : 

You may think yourself a lucky man, Jim, that you have got 
me at all, for I might, if I had chosen, have had a good chance of 
becoming your stepmother. Daddy Clark was very, very kind 
to a poor broken-hearted girl, and asked me to be his wife when 
you got lost.” 

“ So, Jim, you were the Mr. Fletcher about whom all this 
fuss was made, and this lady’s husband. Then why were you 
masquerading under a false name, wasn’t my name good enough 
for you ? And you, madam, why did you also think it necessary 
to sail under false colors, and register in this hotel as Mrs. A. N. 
Others ? ” 

“ I only did it to surprise you, dear Daddy,” said Dora, who 
was looking as beautiful as a peach, going up to the old man and 
putting her arms around his neck and giving him a hearty kiss on 
each cheek. “ I promised in my letter to give you a good kiss, 
and see I have given you two, and I wasn’t sailing under false 
colors either, for I am ‘ another's/ and that ^ other ’ is your 
son, my darling Jim,” leaving the old man as she spoke and 
throwing herself into her husband’s arms. 

Mr. Slocum, who had recovered from his astonishment, tho’.ight 
that now was a suitable time to put in a word, and so remarked : 


Marriage. 135 

“ This is a bigger surprise party, Mr. Clark, than I reckoned on. 
Let me partly unravel the knots of the situation. You see your 
son, who was traveling under an assumed name with the notion of 
picking up a wife who should love him for himself and not for 
his dollars, fell in love with this lady here, proposed and was 
accepted. Then, instead of throwing oflf all disguises, he hung 
on to his incognito and continued to represent himself as a poor 
man, and would not disclose anything about himself or family. 
Canon Leighton, of Canterbury, England, Mrs. Clark’s uncle, very 
reasonably required a clear explanation who he was, and what 
his means were. Jim, from (to me) some unaccountable reason, 
evaded these right and just demands, and things went on in this 
unsatisfactory condition, till Jim persuaded Miss Leighton to run 
away with him, and they were married in Paris under the assumed 
name of Leighton, and came on here with the intention of being 
remarried at Old Trinity Church, Broadway, as Jim seems to have 
entertained a superstitious notion that it was the proper thing 
to be united in matrimony in a church where his ancestors used 
to worship. The day before the ceremony was to have taken place, 
Jim, after celebrating with some friends, got mixed up with a 
low class of gamblers in a tough joint, and was clubbed and 
nearly killed. He was taken to and left at a hospital, where he 
remained till yesterday, having entirely lost his memory as the 
effect of the blow on the head he had received. Mrs. Fletcher 
(now that lady there, Mrs. James Clark) became nearly crazy with 
grief through brooding over her husband’s disappearance, and 
while searching for him in a low down-town district, was lured 
into a bad house, drugged, and stripped, but succeeded in making 
her escape and was found dressed in rags and in an almost dying 
condition on the streets during the night of the blizzard, and 
by an extraordinary coincidence was taken to the same hospital 
where her husband was. Jim two days after, his memory having 
returned to him, overcome with remorse and grief, hastily quitted 
the hospital and came right along to my office. I learnt from 
him and the people connected with the Netherland Hotel the 
description of the appearance of his wife when last seen, and 
at once inserted an advertisement in the newspapers. I ascertained 
this morning from the Mother of the Mercy House that the lost 
lady was with her. The sequel soon followed, a happy reunion 
and a resolemnization of the nuptials at Old Trinity, and there 
stands the bride and bridegroom, tableau, curtain,'” 


136 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

As Mr. Slocum ceased speaking, the scene that presented itself 
in this drawing-room had certainly a very stagey effect, and 
might have formed the closing episode in a thrilling sensational 
drama. There stood the lawyer, having finished his rapid resume, 
with outstretched arm, the dexter finger of his right hand pointing 
to Jim and Dora, the former facing his paternal relative with a look 
of calm resolute joy on his face, his left arm tightly encircling the 
waist of his beautiful wife, who was cuddled up against her dar- 
ling Jim, her head resting against his shoulder and her lovely eyes 
beaming with happiness as she looked up into the face of her dear 
lord and master with a whole-souled expression of timid trustful- 
ness, that seemed to say, “ My own, my all in all, till death and 
after,” while in the center of the group, supporting himself with 
one hand on the back of a chair and with the other pressed against 
his forehead with an almost comic look of amazement, disappoint- 
ment, and gladness stamped on the features of his ingenuous 
countenance, stood old man Clark, who was the first to break the 
silence that reigned for a few seconds in the room after the con- 
clusion of the lawyer’s extemporized oration, by exclaiming: 

“ Great Caesar’s ghost, but you are a bigger crank than I 
am, Jim. You don’t deserve to have won such a prize, and you 
very nearly came losing it, too. By Gosh, sir, if you hadn’t have 
turned up I would have married sweet Dora myself. You would 
have had me, you witch, wouldn’t you ? ” said he, addressing the 
now smiling Dora. But since I can’t wed you I must be content 
to have corailed the loveliest daughter-in-law that a man ever 
possessed. Haven’t you another kiss for the old man, sweet 
Dora?” 

‘'As many as you like, my dear, kind Daddy,” cried the said 
daughter-in-law, as she disengaged herself from her fond hus- 
band’s embrace, and with a graceful bird-like movement swooping 
down on the old man, flinging her arms around his neck and delug- 
ing him with kisses that were so warmly returned that Jim, in a fit 
of pretended jealousy, exclaimed: “Hold hard. Daddy, that’s 
enough, you are poaching on my preserves. Dora’s mine, not 
yours.” 

“ You greedy young dog,” said the old man, “ can’t you spare 
me a few crumbs from your big cake ? ” 

“ It’s funny, Mr. Slocum,” said Dora, laughing, “ to think of 
a son being jealous of his own father.” 

“ It would be queer, wouldn’t it, Judge,” said Jim Clark, “ for 


Marriage. 137 

a man to have to put his own father on the stand in a divorce 
suit?” 

“ It would be a leading case, truly,” replied the lawyer. 

“ What an idea,” said Dora, bursting with laughter, “ I must 
look out or there will be serious trouble ahead between these 
two.” 

Just when perfect harmony had been achieved a knock came 
at the door, and Mrs. Slocum entered, and Dora ran to meet her 
new friend, whom she kissed most affectionately on both cheeks, 
and having helped her to remove the long emerald green velvet 
cloak, trimmed with blue fox and gold passementerie which con- 
cealed her extremely chic low-cut evening princess gown of 
turquoise blue satin brocade with sapphire blue velvet sleeves. 
Dora led her up to her father-in-law, and said : I don’t think 
you have ever met Mrs. Slocum before, my dear Daddy. Allow 
me to introduce her to you.” 

“ I am most charmed to make your acquaintance, madam,” said 
the millionaire. “ Your husband is a great man, I may say, a very 
great man.” 

“ You flatter me, Mr. Clark,” said the lawyer. But what 
success I have achieved in life I owe to my dear Bella.” 

“ And all the happiness I ever expect to have I shall owe to 
my Dora,” said Jim. 

Well, if you are not happy, Jim,” said old man Clark, '' all 
I can say is you ought to be with such a wife. Isn’t Dora a 
peach, Mrs. Slocum ? ” 

“ She is quite too sweet for anything,” replied the lawyer’s 
wife. 

“ You are quite right, Jim,” said Dora, laughing, “ about what 
you said of your father’s habit of throwing bouquets. I must give 
you a reward, dear papa, for such a sweet compliment,” and she 
kissed the old man affectionately. 

“ If you go spooning pa much more, Dora,” said Jim, he will 
be buying up all Tiffany’s store, and you will be so loaded down 
with jewelry that you won’t be able to walk.” 

Just then a bellboy entered with two cards on a salver, saying 
a lady and a gentleman were in the office waiting to see Mr. and 
Mrs. James Clark. Dora looked at the cards and showed them to 
Jim. 

Do let us see them, dear,” said she. 


138 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

Why certainly,” replied her husband, they are the whitest 
people anywhere, and we shall all be friends here.” 

“ Please show them up,” said Dora to the boy. And soon the 
Mother Superior, followed by the rector of Trinity, entered the 
room. Both were evidently surprised at the number of those pres- 
ent, but Dora soon set their minds at rest by saying: “ My dear 
Mother and my dear Rector, I am so glad to see you. Allow me 
to introduce both of you to my father-in-law, Mr. Joshua Clark, 
who has come all the way from ’Frisco, like greased lightning, to 
search for me, and he has actually discovered me at the Astoria. 
Isn’t it clever of him? He is quite a detective. But let me also 
introduce you to Mrs. Slocum, whom I hope to count as my great- 
est lady friend. If it hadn’t been for her husband, I should be now 
scrubbing the floors of the Mercy House, and I am afraid, dear 
Mother, that I should have got a tired feeling.” 

“ Dora and I, Daddy, owe our lives to these two most worthy 
people, the Mother Superior and the rector of Trinity,” said Jim. 

Old man Clark shook hands most heartily with the pair, saying : 
“ Mr. Preacher and Mrs. Superior, you have put me under pretty 
considerable obligations. I guess those two ” (pointing to Jim 
and Dora) ‘‘ are about all the world to me.” 

“ You should say Rector, and not Mr. Preacher,” said Dora, 
laughing, and this lady is Mother, not Mrs. Superior, there is no 
Mr. Superior.” 

“ The good Mother anyway has no superior,” said Slocum. 

“ Great men sometimes indulge in small jokes,” said the lawyer’s 
wife. 

“ I came to see Lady Cognita, I leave out the * In,’ since I shall 
have to know you henceforth as Mrs. Smith or Mrs. James Clark. 
Which is it to be ? ” said the Mother, smiling, and to congratu- 
late you on your marriage.” 

‘‘Hullo, Jim!” said old man Clark, “what, another alias? 
Fletcher was bad enough, but how about Smith ? ” 

“ This was a necessary alias, I guess, which is more than can be 
said of the other, and it was an involuntary one, too,” said Jim, 
“ since when I was in the hospital, under this good lady’s care, I 
was in the unfortunate position of a man who had forgotten his 
own name and identity. They had to call me something, Mr. No- 
body would have sounded so queer, though for a long time I was 
reduced to mental equality with a mud turtle.” 

“ Well, my dear,” said the Mother, addressing Dora, “ you look 


Marriage. 139 

a perfect queen. But, though you are wearing velvet instead of 
gingham, you will always be the dear Sister Incognita to me. But 
I have something to tell you, something which is more than a 
mere coincidence. The hand of a just Providence is apparent. 
Just after you left us this morning a woman was brought in 
dying. She had been run over on the street by a big wagon, and 
was dreadfully crushed. There was absolutely no hope. She 
said she was French and a Catholic. She gave her name as Rachel 
Lemaire, and said she had kept a bad house near the docks.” 

“ Why,” hurriedly uttered Dora, “ that was the name of the 
woman, the proprietress of the so-called hotel, where I was taken 
to and robbed.” 

The Mother continued : The poor wretch said she wished to 
confess to me and not to a priest. She said she had been suffer- 
ing the tortures of the damned from the terrors of an awakened 
conscience ever since she, and another woman, a Mrs. Brown, had 
lured a lady into her house and pillaged her. She described the 
clothes you wore that day, and she and her companion in guilt 
had steeped themselves ever since in drink, purchased with their 
ill-got gains. It seems that this Mrs. Brown fell into the river, 
near the White Star dock, in a drunken fit only yesterday, and 
met with the same death she had intended to have consigned you 
to. Rachel Lemaire had been drinking heavily when she was 
run over to-day. I comforted her by saying that you were alive 
and well. The poor wretch kept on murmuring in French, 
‘ Thank God, I die happy. Thank God, I die happy,’ and I believe 
she did truly repent at the eleventh hour of her wicked life. She 
expired on the very bed, Mrs. Clark, on which we laid you when 
you were brought in.” 

How horrible,” said Dora. “ But I believe that wicked 
woman, Mrs. Brown, was the means of saving my life. If it had 
not been for her I should, I am sure, have drowned myself. I 
was crazy at the time.” 

“ ‘ The judgment of God, vengeance is mine and I will repay,’ 
saith the Lord,” spoke the rector solemnly, who had been a silent 
listener to the Mother’s recital. 

“ I came here to thank you, sir, again,” said he, addressing Jim, 
for your splendid contribution to my church, and to congratulate 
your wife once more on her marriage.” 

“ It seems to me, Mr. Preacher and Mrs. Superior, that both 
of you have saved the life of this lady here, though I am in the 


140 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

dark as to how it was done. Now, Jim, my boy, don^t try and put 
up any of your bluffs on me, I raise you.” 

“ Then I throw up my hand and quit the game,” said Jim, 
laughing, “ you hold a royal flush, I suppose, anyway if it were 
only a single pair it would be all the same, weight of metal 
must win. I don’t pretend to be able to compete with you when it 
comes to a question of hard cash.” 

“ Oh, I shall only put up my share of the boodle,” said the 
aluminum king. “ I don’t want to make your efforts look small, 
so I’ll just give the preacher and Mrs. Superior $250,000 each 
more than you have done, my son, whatever that may be.” 

“ Then you will have to write two checks for $350,000 each.” 

The old man promptly obeyed his son, and handed to the 
astonished and grateful recipients, respectively, the two drafts. 

“ I, indeed, entertained an angel unawares,” said the Mother 
Superior, “ for the future you, Mrs. Clark, will share with St. 
Ursula the honor of being considered the patroness of our Mercy 
House. I shall name, with your permission, the new ward the 
‘ Dora.’ ” 

“ Please, dear Mother, call it the ' Incognita,’ ” replied Mrs. 
Clark. 

“ Very well, as you will.” 

“ By the way, rector, have you brought with you the black 
bottle ? ” said Slocum. 

“ I have,” replied the rector, producing from a grip he held 
in his hand an ordinary receptacle for that fluid, that had proved 
the earthly perdition of the verger and Dora’s salvation. Jim 
almost reverently took it and stowed it away in his dressing- 
room. “ And now since present-giving seems in fashion,” said 
Dora, “ allow me to present to you, dear Mother, and to Sister 
Agnes, these two gold crosses as little keepsakes. I know you 
are not allowed by the rules of your order to receive gifts, but 
surely these cannot be regarded exactly in the ordinary light,” 
and she handed to the Mother the two cases containing the mag- 
nificent crosses obtained at Tiffany’s literally blazing with precious 
stones. 

“ A thousand thanks for the beautiful and pious thought, my 
dear Sister Incognita,” said the Mother, “ I will crave our 
Bishop’s leave for a special dispensation to allow us to retain 
these most splendid crosses in memory of the giver; if he re- 


Marriage. 141 

fuses, with your permission, they shall adorn the statues in the 
hospital of the Blessed Virgin, and of the Holy St. Ursula.” 

It is presumed that the dispensation was obtained, as the rather 
slim collection of jewelry the Blessed Virgin and the holy saint 
possessed, were not further enriched by the addition of these two 
emblems of the Christian faith. It may be here said that Dora 
privately presented Mrs. Slocum with the diamond bracelet she 
had purchased at Tiffany’s and sent the rector the gold English 
chronograph watch tor liimsell, with an inscription inside, “ From 
Dora. Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these, my 
little ones, ye have done it unto me.” 

When the Mother and the rector had taken their departure, 
Dora said: “ Now, my dear papa, after we have paid ’Frisco a 
visit, I want you to promise to accompany Jim and me on a trip 
to England. We would have no end of a good time.” 

“ You bet we would,” said Jim. ‘‘ And, Dora, you could intro- 
duce Daddy to your aunt, he would be awfully mashed.” 

“ And, Bella, you must persuade your husband to take you across 
and join us on the other side,” said Dora. 

“ I couldn’t possibly refuse a request from two such sup- 
pliants,” gallantly said the lawyer. 

“ And I think also that Cinderella should show up at Canter- 
bury,” said Mrs. Clark. 

“ Wherever you go, my sweet Dora, you bet I’ll be there,” 
said the old man ; “ the only way to get rid of me, dear, in the 
future will be to kill me.” 

“ I will smother you with kisses, papa,” said Dora. “ You 
will like my aunt, but you will feel inclined to kill her green 
parrot, it screams like a steam whistle, and it bit my finger, 
so I shouldn’t be broken-hearted if it were wiped out.” 

” It bit your sweet little finger,” said Jim, ” then that bird 
is doomed.” 

Well, all you people, dinner will be ready in about five 
minutes, and I don’t know what you are, but I am perishing with 
hunger. This is the greatest day in the lives of some of us,” 
said the old man. “ I feel a pretty proud man, I can tell you, 
Slocum. I have won the trans-continental record, and find the 
loveliest girl in New York is my daughter-in-law.” 

“ And I have found my darling Dora,” said Jim, enthusiastic- 
ally. 

All’s well that ends well,” replied the lawyer. “ I don’t 


142 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

think any one will collect that $20,000 reward again, though the 
notice will appear in the papers for the next week.” 

“ Perhaps, Jim, you wouldn’t give another $20,000 to get me 
back, if I were lost again,” said Dora, archly. 

“ Well, I am witness at any rate that your husband would 
give eight million dollars to recover his lost wife,” said 
Slocum. 

“ And I would have given fifty million,” said old man Clark. 

“ I am trying to figure out the sensation of having a father- 
in-law who could not only say, but really be able to give fifty 
million dollars for one’s self. It sounds like one of the tales 
in the Arabian Nights,” said Mrs. Slocum, reflectively. 

“ If you were my slave, darling,” said Jim Clark, encircling 
Dora’s waist with his right arm, and holding her hand with his 
disengaged one, “ all the dollars in the world wouldn’t buy you, but 
as it is I am your slave for life.” 

“ No, I am yours, darling,” replied Dora. 

“ I guess that, however you two may arrange this matter of 
detail, you, Jim Clark, have got pretty good value for that $20,000 
reward,” said the attorney. 


Westward Bound. 


143 


CHAPTER XV. 

WESTWARD BOUND. 

By the lawyer’s advice, during the following days (Friday and 
Saturday) the happy couple kept pretty much to their private 
apartments in the Astoria, in order to avoid the chance of detec- 
tion, as if it became known that Mr. and Mrs. James Clark were 
the Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher, whose mysterious disappearances were 
causing such widespread consternation, it is evident that they 
would be bothered out of their lives by newspaper reporters and 
other inquisitive folk, for, indeed, a regular panic prevailed among 
the wealthy classes, not only in New York, but in all other great 
centers of population in Europe, as well as in America. It was sur- 
mised that an era of kidnapping might have commenced, organ- 
ized by a daring syndicate of unscrupulous miscreants whose ob- 
ject, of course, was blackmail on an heroic scale; consequently the 
lady members of rich families seldom went about unescorted and 
society men armed themselves and thronged the shooting gal- 
leries for pistol practice. 

When it was quite dark Jim and Dora took long automobile rides 
through the city, the latter being plainly dressed and thickly 
veiled. 

The old man kept his appointment at the Stock Exchange on 
Friday, his appearance creating quite a furore, all business be- 
ing entirely suspended for nearly half an hour. Both the Bulls 
and the Bears ceased for awhile to exercise their leathern lungs 
by shouting, Buy ! Buv ! Sell ! Sell ! ” and gave those great 
speculating media “ Atchison ” and United States Wheat trust a 
brief holiday, and “ puts ” and “ calls ” became temporarily matters 
of indifference since the presence of the aluminum king put every- 
thing else in the shade, and the only calls of importance were 
those made by the vociferous brokers as they called on Mr. Clark 
for a speech from the visitors’ gallery. These calls were not made 


144 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

in vain, and the old man who, though no stump orator, could 
speak to the point, in the course of his remarks, referring to his 
railroad race, pointed out the advantage that would accrue to 
railroad corporations in the way of saving weight, thereby econ- 
omizing fuel and increasing their dividends if they used aluminum 
exclusively for the construction of their rolling stock. This shrewd 
move on the old man’s part resulted on resumption of business in a 
bullish movement setting in which produced a rise of 6^2 points 
in National toughened aluminum common stock and an almost 
equal fall in steel trust shares. The old man that very morning 
before entering the exchange had visited his broker’s office and 
had bought two millions of aluminum, which he promptly sold at 
the advanced price and thereby left Wall Street a richer man by 
more than $100,000 than when he entered it. 

“ That’s paid the expenses of my trip, my dear,” he gleefully 
remarked to Dora on his return to the Astoria, though it cannot 
be said he was anything in pocket, as he presented her with a 
glorious necklace and tiara of diamonds and sapphires that cost 
$250,000 as a wedding present. 

Mr. Clark was very fond of making these small coups on the 
Stock Exchange which hurt no one in particular.. With his 
colossal wealth he could, if he had chosen, have convulsed the 
market and almost have created a panic and ruined scores say by 
suddenly selling huge blocks of his aluminum stock or otherwise 
monkeying with the market, but such conduct he considered as dis- 
honest as picking a man’s pocket or robbing a bank. 

It was arranged that the Clarks should leave New York on 
Sunday evening. Of course, it may be asked why they didn’t 
skip before. The answer is that all three, in fact, all five, as the 
Slocums were to be included in the church party, wished to go on 
Sunday morning to Old Trinity, Broadway, and attend what to the 
Clarks at least would truly be a thanksgiving service. The old 
man hadn’t entered the church since he was a boy, but he had a 
great reverence for the edifice, and a tear glistened in his eye 
as he sat next to Dora and listened to a moving and eloquent 
address by the rector on the parable of the lost sheep, in appeal- 
ing to his congregation for their assistance towards the newly 
created fund for the relief of the poor, destitute wanderers of 
New York City. The old man always carried a fountain pen and 
his check-book with him, and his contribution that day far ex- 
ceeded that of the rest of the congregation put together. He felt 


Westward Bound. 


145 

he never could do enough towards furthering the benevolent aims 
of the good rector. After the service the old man desired to 
see the vestry, which henceforth was to him and his son the 
most sacred spot on earth. The whole party then, reinforced by 
the rector, at Mrs. Slocum’s suggestion, adjourned to Martin’s. 
This famous restaurant has maintained since its removal to the 
old quarters of Delmonico’s on Broadway and Fifth Avenue, in 
the first year of the present century, the great reputation it so 
worthily achieved in its former premises on Ninth Street. At 

Martin’s are revived in the leading city of the world (for by 

this time New York had quite taken the shine out of London in 

point of population and of commercial importance) the extinct 

glories of the “ Trois Frbres ” and of the Caf^ Anglais ” where 
the leading gourmets of a bygone generation used in gay Paree 
to cultivate the abstruse science of gastronomy. Here a delicious 
dejeuner ordered by the Judge and paid for by the multi-million- 
aire, was partaken of, washed down by libations of chateau Uquem 
of a rare vintage. Mr. and Mrs. Slocum were regular habitues 
of the place, and the former was regarded by all the staff from 
the director downwards as a ne plus ultra authority on questions 
of food and wine, and his smallest wishes were attended to with 
a zeal and a despatch that the most portentously rich millionaire 
(whose solitary criterion of the quality of a dinner might be 
perhaps its cost) would fail to command. 

Ten p. M. was the time fixed for a start, and that hour saw 
the Clarks quietly boarding the private train at the Central 
depot. Mr. and Mrs. Slocum and the rector were on hand to 
give the travelers a send-off. All the luggage had been previously 
sent down to the station. In bidding her new friends farewell, 
Dora said : “ I hope, Bella dear, that we shall soon meet again, 

but it looks on the map a terrible distance right across this big 
continent to ’Frisco, and I suppose your husband’s business pre- 
vents him leaving New York. But we hope at any rate to catch a 
glimpse of both of you on our way to Europe, as Jim and I (be- 
tween ourselves) have settled that we must go across before long, 
as I want to see my people, and then there’s the London season. I 
hope to goodness you and Mr. Slocum will be able to join us on 
the other side.” 

Mrs. Slocum laughed merrily as she replied : “ I will only say 
au revoir, sans adieu^ dear Dora, as we can’t sometimes generally 
always tell ; possibly the fates may allow us to meet sooner than 
10 


146 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

you anticipate, he who lives will see, as the French proverb hath 
it.” 

Dora was rather astonished and perhaps a little mortified at 
the light-hearted manner her friend displayed at parting, whereas 
she (Dora) felt much inclined to cry, and was further mystified 
by observing the shadow of a grin on the faces of the old man, 
of Jim, and even of the Judge, too. There was an unreality in 
this good-by business that Dora confessed she could not under- 
stand. 

“ So long, Rector, remember you have got to pay us a visit this 
summer in the little village on the other side, and bring your wife 
if she will come,” said the old man, shaking the good cleric’s hand 
most heartily. 

“ I will do my level best to get away, you bet,” said the rector. 

I feel ready to weep, Jim dear,” said Dora, as the train moved 
out of the depot and prepared to take its plunge through that series 
of close, dusty tunnels through which the railroad as far as the 
Harlem River passes. 

Jim laughed, but said nothing, and led the way to the drawing- 
room which had been, by the old man’s orders, most beautifully 
decorated with the rarest and costliest flowers. On a central table 
were two magnificent bouquets of roses, the one of American 
Beauties and the other of Bridesmaids. Each had a card attached 
and on the first was written, ‘‘To Dora, from Bella, with love and 
best wishes,” and on the second, “ To Dora, from the Rector. God 
bless and preserve you.” 

“ Isn’t that sweet of them ? ” said Dora, as she smelt and kissed 
the lovely blooms, and then overcome with a feeling she could not 
quite explain, she sat down and burst into tears. 

“ My darling,” said Jim, “ whatever is the matter? ” 

“ Oh, it will be so long before I see them again, and I love Bella 
so, she has been so kind to me.” 

Jim was evidently on the point of making some disclosure, 
when unperceived by Dora, whose face was buried at the moment 
in her hands, the old man made a signal to him by shaking his 
head and placing a finger on his lips, and then said cheerily : 

“ We shall see them all again in good time, my dear Dora; now 
dry your eyes. I want to know if you will care to see ‘ The 
Falls.’ ” 

“ What! Niagara Falls? ” cried Dora, quickly recovering her- 


Westward Bound. 


147 

self. ‘ My dear Daddy, of course I should. I have seen them 
in my dreams for years. 

“ That’s settled then,” said the old man, “ and our next stop 
after that will be Chicago.” 

No words of mine can describe the bliss of the happy pair 
now securely united by the bonds of holy matrimony. They had 
both been rescued from the jaws of destruction. Their mutual 
love had been refined and intensified by the furnace of suffering. 
The black cloud of horror that for a brief time enveloped and 
overshadowed them had been mercifully dispelled. Having tasted 
the bitterness of death, they were the better prepared to take 
their fill of the now tenfold increased sweetness of life. An un- 
broken career of commonplace prosperity too often is productive 
of restless satiety. Human existence is largely composed of ac- 
tions and reactions, of expansions and contractions. Passivities 
to be enjoyed must be preceded by activities. In a word, happi- 
ness is increased by contrast and diminished by sameness. This 
is no mere idle theory, but is one easily demonstrable by referring 
to well-known examples in everyday life. Cyclists assert that it 
is more fatiguing to traverse a uniformly flat country, than one 
which is undulating in its character; and that the enjoyment of a 
coast down a long incline is enhanced by the labor of the previous 
ascension. The truth of the matter seems to be that not only are 
different sets of muscles brought into play, some being rested 
while others are employed, but the mind itself is refreshed by 
constant change of scenery. Monotony most certainly depresses 
the nerve centers and mental faculties, and so lowers the tone of 
the whole system, rendering it more susceptible to what is vulgarly 
called a tired feeling. An unvarying diet not only is distasteful 
to the palate, but actually prejudicial to the general health. It is 
astonishing the amount of work an average man is capable of 
doing by judiciously varying from time to time the nature of his 
employment. 

Probably no one so completely realizes the value of mere exist- 
ence as a prisoner in the condemned cell who has just been in- 
formed of his reprieve. Mere cessation from pain is the greatest 
boon a sufferer from chronic neuralgia could crave for. Only one 
who has lately undergone the tortures of parching thirst can duly 
relish the deliciousness of a cup of cold water. Jim and Dora’s 
affection for each other was the natural outcome of the highest 
and holiest form of altruism. Each had mourned the other as 


148 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

lost forever with the dull agony of dumb despair. Hence the in- 
effable gladness of their reunion seem to them an earthly fore- 
taste of that celestial rapture that will be the portion of the re- 
deemed on the resurrection morn when the tears shall be wiped 
away from every eye and loved ones shall meet to part no more. 

Old man Clark was quite happy, too, in a modified sense. With 
philosophical resignation he had ceased to pine after the impossible 
and had brought himself to see (though it may partly have been 
a case of sour grapes) that a beautiful young wife is a dangerous 
if fascinating acquisition for a man like himself well advanced in 
years. However outwardly irreproachable the lady’s married life 
may be, her ancient spouse will be continually haunted with tlie 
possible apparition of some dashing young Apollo in the full 
bloom of health and vigor who may with unflagging industry un- 
dermine her scruples and kindle the fire of passion in her heart, 
until one fine morning the injured husband awakes to find that the 
birds are flown and that he is left to the cold consolation of the 
divorce court. While the young sinners get all the sympathy of 
society and snap their fingers at the poor old fool. It is a sad mis- 
take for winter to mate with spring, as that great poet Chaucer has 
allegorically depicted in one of the best of his inimitable Canter- 
bury Tales. Whatever is is right in this best of all possible worlds, 
and so the millionaire schooled himself to be content with lav- 
ishing a paternally platonic affection on the daughter-in-law he 
had before aspired to call his wife. He felt that he never could 
do enough for one in whom he claimed a species of proprietary 
right. Dora found an instance of her father-in-law’s thoughtful 
care on boarding the train. The English maid whom the manager 
of the Netherland Hotel had engaged for Mrs. Fletcher (using 
Dora’s pseudonym) was awaiting Mrs. Clark’s pleasure. Dora 
was delighted, as she had taken a great fancy to the girl who had 
done her duty faithfully and well to her half-distracted mistress 
during the short period of the latter’s residence at the hotel. 

Before starting the old man ’phoned instructions to his secretary. 
Captain Dawlish, at Chicago, to order up the remaining cars of 
his train from San Francisco, and to have everything in readiness 
for the reception of the wedded pair. In due course the private 
train was sidetracked at the Michigan Central depot on the Ameri- 
can side of “ The Falls,” and three days of love, joy, and wonder 
were spent in inspecting from every point of vantage the great 
world marvel. Niagara was dressed in her winter garb, and the 


Westward Bound. 


149 


Falls, matchless at all times, afforded now an indescribable spec- 
tacle. It would be offering the reader a gratuitous insult to dare 
to attempt a detailed description of that which has compelled the 
most versatile and eloquent writers to lay down their pens in 
, absolute despair. “ Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.” 
Language has its limitations, superlatives are sometimes mere 
impertinences. For here we find nature’s grandest epic writ in 
foaming waves pouring over the tremendous abyss under their 
blue self-made canopy of frozen spray with those wonderful 
many-tinted snow-bows, illumining the glorious scene, and like the 
spirit of God at the creation moving o’er the face of the waters. 

With silent homage, hand in hand, their hearts filled with love 
and thankfulness, Jim and Dora during their three days’ halt 
spent some happy hours each morning on Goat’s Island. The old 
man on these occasions pretended to have important business to 
transact, and passed his time inspecting the great power-house 
and the neighboring factories. Several years previous to this the 
American and Canadian Governments had come to an equitable 
arrangement by which not more than a certain fixed amount of 
water was allowed to be taken from the Niagara River for power- 
creating purposes. Thus the Falls were saved from the danger 
that was continually becoming more and more imminent of being 
shorn of a portion of their beauty through the greatly decreased 
volume of water passing over them. The addition of ten million 
horse-power to the wealth-producing motive force of the con- 
tinent would be but a poor compensation for a dwindled Niagara. 

Our trio met at lunch and spent the afternoon of each day 
in expeditions to the whirlpool rapids and other points of local 
interest. They took all their meals and slept on board the private 
train. 

When the time came to resume their journey, all three felt 
braced up and refreshed by their temporary retreat from the mad- 
ding throng. The gr-eat body of troubled water brings down with 
it vast masses of oxygen. There always seems to be a greater 
supply of ozone in the air round “ The Falls ” than elsewhere. I 
do not think that Niagara is as much appreciated from a health- 
giving as it is from a spectacular point of view. Again, it is so 
restful for the eye and brain to watch the tumbling, leaping, swirl- 
ing, tossing waves as they race with frantic energy to their 
doom. And, finally, Niagara as a sermon in rushing waters is a 
most invigorating soul tonic. But she should be taken seriously. 


i5o A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

Nothing is more out of harmony with the spirit of the Falls than 
to hear, during the tourist season on Goat’s Island, peals of shrill 
soulless laughter interspersed with idle, nonsensical cackling pro- 
ceeding from a group of human bipeds who have no more collec- 
tive sentiment in them than a cage full of irresponsible chattering 
monkeys just escaped from a caravan belonging to an itinerant 
circus. 

If when we are gazing at nature’s most stupendous miracle, we 
encourage a feeling of reverential awe, our minds will be raised 
to the throne of the God of Nature in whose ante-chamber we are 
standing far more efficaciously than they would be by listen- 
ing to the most eloquent and moving address ever uttered by 
mortal lips. 

The Clark train left Niagara about lo p m., the third day 
(Wednesday) after their arrival there, and proceeded to Buffalo, 
where it was transferred to the metals of the Lake Shore road 
(Mr. Clark preferred this road to that of the Michigan Central, 
since in traveling by the latter time is lost in crossing the Detroit 
River on the steam ferry), and started on its nocturnal journey 
to Chicago. - 


A Legal Quibble. 


iSi 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A LEGAL QUIBBLE. 

Heigho/' said Mr. Uriah Slocum, rising from his office chair 
and stretching himself. “ I guess I have done a pretty good 
morning’s work, four hours’ steady, continuous application is 
enough for any brain worker at one time, and, Uriah, my boy,” 
said he aloud, addressing himself, or rather soliloquizing, “ your 
mental machinery is still in good shape, but how long it will con- 
tinue so I can’t say. Let me see,” said he, looking at his office 
diary, and then at his watch, ‘‘ it is just one o’clock, and this is 
Wednesday. The Clarks will be starting from Niagara some- 
where about midnight for Chicago. Bella and I have to join them 
there to-morrow afternoon. Well, I have put things in as good a 
shape as I am able. I have to meet Bella at the depot at 2.30 
p. M.,” and he touched the hand bell and the ubiquitous Jenkins 
at once appeared like Aladdin’s slave of the ring. 

‘‘Will you give Mr. Sumner, my managing clerk, this paper? 
It contains instructions as to what he is to do in a number of 
matters. I have to start at once for Chicago on most pressing 
business and may be away some time, but I will advise Mr. Sumner 
by ’phone as to my whereabouts and keep him posted up. And 
here is a cable, Jenkins, in this sealed envelope. I rely on your 
despatching it to-morrow morning in time to be delivered at Can- 
terbury, England, not later than 8.30 a. m. You must allow 
for the difference in times between the two countries. You will 
probably have to send it about 3 a. m., anyway it is very im- 
portant that it should arrive for private reasons at the time I 
have named; also ’phone Mr. Eli Simpson at the office of the 
Journal newspaper, and tell him to come right along to my 
office, and, Jenkins, you have served me hitherto faithfully. I 
shall raise your salary $5 a week, but don’t tell the other clerks, 
or they will want theirs raised, too.” 

Mr. Jenkins thanked his employer most effusively, and with- 


152 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

drew with a curious jerk, as if he had been violently pulled back- 
wards by the coat tails through the doorway by one of his fellow- 
employees. 

“ There, said Slocum when the clerk had withdrawn, ‘‘ so far 
so good,” and he picked up a letter written in a feminine hand 
that had been lying on his desk, and re-read it. I would go 
through fire and water for that sweet woman, Dora Clark, the 
writer of that note. I think I have obeyed her instructions in 
regard to the cable. She says she will also telegraph to her 
uncle herself from Cleveland to-morrow morning, so the two 
despatches ought to arrive about the same time. She will be 
surprised,” continued the lawyer, musingly, “ when Bella and 1 
turn up at the Auditorium. He is a foxy old card, Joshua Clark, 
but, great Scot, it was precious hard lines on him, finding that 
Dora is the wife of his son. But Jim will make her a splendid 
husband, and she will be the saving of him. I am not sure that 
he would not have gone to the devil if he had not luckily met 
just the right woman to guide and keep him straight,” and the 
Judge went on looking over his letters and papers and making 
audible comments thereon as was his wont till his labors 
were interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Simpson, the reporter 
for the New York Journal. 

“ How do you do, Mr. Simpson ? ” said the lawyer cordially. 

Sit down in that armchair, help yourself to one of those cigars, 
you know the brand. I sent you half a dozen boxes of them, and 
you would like a wee drappie, there’s Scotch and Rye by your 
elbow and a siphon. Now to business,” said he, as the reporter 
obeyed him in every particular. “ Have you got any forarder in 
solving the Fletcher mystery ? ” 

“ No, Mr. Slocum, I haven’t touched it since that memorable in- 
terview I had with you at Strawberry Villa ; but, of course, if I had 
had a free hand, I would have got to the bottom of the business, 
but I had given my word to you that I would not meddle with the 
affair.” 

‘ I am very glad to hear this, Mr. Simpson,” replied the lawyer. 
“ It is so much easier to deal with a man of honor. What fools 
people are not to go straight all the time ; it would lessen the fric- 
tion of life and put money in their pockets.” 

“ And take money out of yours, eh. Judge! ” quietly observed 
Simpson, with a merry twinkle in his eye. 

“ By Hamlet’s ghost, I believe you are right,” said Slocum, 


A Legal Quibble. i53 

laughing, “ but all the same, if you had really tried, I don’t think 
you would have found out much about the case.” 

‘ Well, I don’t know,” replied the reporter. “ You gave me a 
pretty good line yourself. A quiet, self-contained man like you. 
Judge, does not point a pistol to a chap’s head and hold him up 
for half an hour, besides bribing him in the splendid way you 
did, without good cause. It was earning a thousand dollars pretty 
cheap, and then those cigars and brandy, too, they have reconciled 
me to human nature and have made me look at things in a different 
point of view to what I did.” 

“Not two points of view at once, I trust,” said Slocum, laugh- 
ing. “ I hope to goodness, Simpson, you won’t be such a fool as 
to take to drink, as in that case the burden of your perdition will 
lie heavy on my soul. When you left my house the other day after 
our remarkable interview, I don’t think you were in a condition to 
look at things from any point of view ; in other words, you were 
as full as a goat. By the way, I wonder what the origin of that 
expression is ; it may be because Bacchus, the God of booze, is 
always depicted as riding on one of those animals, but I want to 
hear before we go further what makes you think that this Fletcher 
business would have been such a soft proposition for you ? ” 

“ Mr. Slocum,” replied the reporter, “ you must give me the 
credit for being a far greater ass than I really am. It was dead 
easy to comprehend why, in the first place, you pulled down the 
blind of your study window. That, of course, was to prevent me 
seeing some parties who were just then leaving your house. I 
heard the wheels of the auto almost immediately afterwards, 
crunching the gravel of the drive, and then my forcible detention 
was obviously to hinder my following the auto and discovering 
who the parties really were.” 

* And who do you think they were, anyway ? ” said the lawyer, 
crossing his legs and folding his arms across his chest, with an 
amused expression on his face.” 

“ Why, Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher, of course,” said Mr. Simpson, 
rather contemptuously. He felt aggrieved at having his abilities 
so underrated, as he supposed, by the lawyer. “ And what is 
more,” continued the reporter, “ that girl in the cloak and hood I 
saw leave the Mercy House, and who was afterwards joined by 
Mr. Fletcher, was the latter’s wife, disguised as a hired girl.” 

“ I supposed, Mr. Simpson, that this would be the natural con- 
clusion you would have arrived at, but I am sorry to say you ar^ 


154 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

off your base altogether, and I am also grieved to learn that yoii 
have inferred that I told you a lie. Now, I once more inform you 
that the lady you saw leave the Mercy House does not boast of the 
name of Fletcher, nor was she Mrs. Clark. She was a poor girl, 
picked up on the steps of Trinity Church, Broadway, by the rector 
himself, during the late blizzard. Again, the gentleman you saw 
get into the auto was the same man who left my house while you 
were in my study. His name, I repeat, is Clark, not Fletcher. In 
regard to the lady, you have my permission to go to the Rector of 
Trinity and to the Mother Superior of the Mercy House and cross- 
examine them to your heart’s content, and you are welcome to all 
the information you get from them about the identity of the poor 
girl. You will find it just as I have said. She was taken to the 
Mercy House, and worked there as a hired girl and came on here.” 

“ Well, you are a very clever man, Mr. Slocum; or, rather, I 
knew that all along, and I must indeed be a fool if I really sup- 
posed I was going to get the better of you,” replied the reporter. 

“ That being so, Simpson,” said the lawyer, with a little chuckle, 
“ I am going to reward you for keeping your head shut. Here is 
a document written in my own hand (I dared not have it typed), 
containing a full explanation of the matter. It seems that Mr. and 
Mrs. Fletcher, who had been recently married in Paris, France, 
returned to this country and stopped at the Netherland Hotel, 
Fifth Avenue, in this city, with the idea of getting remarried in 
Mr. Fletcher’s right name. The day before the ceremony was to 
have taken place, Mr. Fletcher it seems went down-town to cele- 
brate a bit, leaving his wife in the hotel. He was lured into a 
tough joint, knocked insensible and kidnapped. And his wife, 
when she was searching the slums for him, was also followed and 
seized. This double coup was perpetrated by the same gang of 
outlaws, for the purpose of obtaining a huge ransom. Mr. 
Fletcher made his escape, his wife was also rescued, the robbers 
have disappeared, and the now happy pair were reunited last Fri- 
day under the names of Mr. and Mrs. James Clark, and have since, 
in company with the former’s father, Joshua Clark, the great 
aluminum king, gone West. You will perceive that I have also 
added in the paper that Mrs. Clark is the niece of Canon Leighton, 
of Canterbury, England. I want you to insert the account in a 
special late edition of the Journal to-night; you can add what 
frills you like about your zeal in your sucessful endeavors to 
obtain this intelligence. Meanwhile I am going West myself this 


A Legal Quibble. 155 

afternoon and absolutely refuse to answer any communications 
from any one except yourself, Simpson. I shall, for your private 
information, be staying for a few days with the Clarks at the 
Auditorium Hotel, Chicago. Now do you want to ask me any 
more questions? I have hardly a minute to spare, as I am due 
shortly at the Central to meet my wife.” 

“I don’t know how to thank you,” said Simpson, “you have 
made my fortune. The Journal presses will have hard work to- 
night to meet the demand for copies of that special edition. I will 
only ask you one question, Mr. Slocum.” 

“ Out with it,” replied the lawyer, rising to put on his overcoat. 

“ Was the gentleman I followed to your house Mr. Clark, alias 
Mr. Fletcher ? ” 

“ Yes,” replied the lawyer; “ at the same time you will observe, 
Simpson, that I told you the truth. The gentleman’s name is 
Clark, not Fletcher. If you had asked at first if his pseudonym 
was Fletcher I should have been up a tree, and you would have 
mated me in one move.” 

“ Now I understand what a legal quibble means,” replied Mr. 
Simpson, laughing, shaking most heartily the lawyer’s hand. 
“ What train do you go by ? ” 

“ Two-thirty, Lake Shore,” replied the lawyer, as he hurried 
away to get a snack of lunch and join his wife at the Central 
afterwards. 

Just before the train departed, Mr. Simpson made his way to the 
stateroom where Mr. and Mrs. Slocum were just arranging their 
baggage de voyage, and was introduced to the lawyer’s wife, to 
whom he handed a most magnificent bouquet, the costliest he could 
buy, and said, with a low bow, “ This is a tiny mark, madam, of 
my esteem for the wife of the architect of my fortune, your hus- 
band.” 


156 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE CANON PARTS HIS COAT TAILS. 

Light travels, it is estimated, at 192,000 miles a second ; elec- 
tricity is reckoned to cover about 240,000 miles in the same brief 
space of time, but thought can travel infinitely faster than either. 
This being the case, my reader will have no difficulty in following 
the electric spark as it darts along the cable that lies like an endless 
serpent, either on the bottom of the broad Atlantic, or bridging 
fathomless crevasses and deep valleys that diversify the vast unex- 
plored submarine tracts. We need not wait while Mr. Slocum’s 
and Dora’s messages are being ticked off in the London office, 
and from thence transmitted to Canterbury. But we will forthwith 
invade the comfortable and elegant rectory house, the residence of 
Canon Leighton. The hour when we in spirit enter the cozy 
dining-room is about 8.30 a. m. The Canon is standing on the 
hearth-rug, with his back to the blazing, cheerful fire, immacu- 
lately dressed in clerical attire. The long tails of his black coat of 
glossy broadcloth are divided by his two hands, and so he is en- 
abled to more effectually warm his nether person and convert him- 
self into a living firescreen. Why Englishmen in particular should 
affect this attitude is a matter for reasonable speculation. Perhaps 
it is from a feeling of conscious pride that their nation is almost 
the only one that has not discarded the cheery sociable open fire- 
place for the useful, but ugly and unhealthy stove. Also because 
an Englishman (at least in his own eyes) is a real lord of the 
creation, one of whose most cherished privileges is to monopolize, 
as far as possible, the warmth of his own hearth. Or, again, 
because the hearth-rug forms a strategic position from which the 
British lion can command the group of his obedient crotchet- 
working, wool-knitting lionesses, and address them in dictatorial 
tones. However this may be, one thing is certain, that though in 
battle it takes a precious lot to make a Britisher turn his back on 
the enemy’s fire, in piping times of peace it takes vastly greater 
persuasion (such is the invincible power of habit) to prevent him 


The Canon Parts His Coat Tails. 157 

doing so ; the enemy in the latter case being his grasping, dishonest 
coal merchant. At any rate, he is sure that in the open grate be- 
hind him, he possesses at least a warm supporter. The keen-eyed 
student of national characteristics may safely make a bet before 
visiting an English home-gathering, where the sexes are pretty 
equally divided in a numerical sense, that he will find on entering 
that the hearth-rug is occupied by at least one of the male sex with 
his coat-tails separated in the manner I have described, and that 
this is almost as true in summer as in winter, even though the 
grate be filled with painted flames, or artificial flowers. 

The Canon was obviously put out about something or other. 
His lips were firmly pursed, and his massive forehead had a 
frown on it that puckered up the prominent vertical furrows that 
separated his slightly-beetling brows, and brought into greater 
prominence those indelible signs of approaching old age, the 
tangled crows’ feet that surrounded his bright, stern, gray eyes. 

Family prayers were over and the second important function of 
the day was about to commence. The churchman was no slug- 
gard, and tried to impress on his family by constant repetition 
those favorite British maxims that “ It is the early bird that col- 
lects the worm,” and that “ Early to bed and early to rise makes 
a man healthy, wealthy and wise,” though he did not condescend 
to explain how this last proverb applies to the case of woman. The 
table in front of him was groaning under the weight of the good 
things that were on it, and the tea urn was hissing in its appointed 
place, near which Mrs. Leighton presided. This good lady had 
been (so tradition recorded) a beauty in her youth, though now 
she would hardly be said to possess even the battered ruins of 
comeliness. She had a high, peaked, narrow forehead, small 
green eyes, thin lips and nostrils, and fleshless cheeks. She had 
the nervous, jerky manner of a doll, the movements of whose 
limbs are regulated by a wire running down its spine. How many 1 
elderly ladies of unprepossessing appearance there are of whom 
it is currently reported that they were fascinating buds some half 
century ago, which statement is out of the power of the vast 
majority of their friends and acquaintances to contradict. The 
Canon’s three daughters, very, smartly and fashionably dressed, 
occupied seats on each side of the table, the bottom end of which 
was reserved for the head of the house. 

“ Do come to breakfast, papa,” said Rachel, “ these devilled 
kidneys and grilled turkeys’ legs, which you are so fond of, are 


158 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

getting cold. One advantage of your long family prayers is that 
they give one an appetite. That chapter you read this morning 
about the parable of the loaves and the fishes has made me feel 
quite hungry; how impatient those five thousand persons must 
have become, sitting on the hard ground, waiting their turn to be 
served, and, too, how the twelve Apostles must have hustled to 
have got through with serving the meal.'’ 

“ I notice, Rachel,” said her father, solemnly, “ that you have 
lately developed a spirit of irreverence. You must check this or it 
will grow upon you.” 

“Familiarity breeds contempt,” replied Rachel, with a laugh, 
“ the children of a minister hear so much shop that they get sick 
of it. I suppose that is the reason why parsons’ sons so often turn 
out to be scapegraces. There’s young Spooner, for instance ; he 
has just been rusticated from Oxford, and we all know what a 
holy man of God his father is, and besides we are behind the 
scenes, and as a man is never a hero to his own valet, so a tre- 
mendous ecclesiastic who hurls platitudes at his congregation and 
damns them in heaps from the vantage ground of the pulpit is 
frequently by no means a flawless saint to his own children.” 

“ Rachel, you shouldn’t speak like that to dear papa,” said Annie, 
who since Dora’s departure had become her father’s stanch 
supporter. 

“ Rachel, you are an ungrateful, impertinent girl. You and 
Agatha drove poor Dora away. She was worth a hundred of 
you, poor dear, and now she is perhaps dead ; if she is her blood 
will be at your door,” said the Canon. 

“ Arthur,” said Mrs. Leighton, “ how wicked of you to say 
such things. Dora has brought her misfortunes on her own head 
by her reckless folly in going away as she did with an utter 
stranger ; we have no proof she ever was married to him.” 

“ I am certain,” said Agatha, “ that they never were married ; 
or, if they were, why has she committed suicide, as probably she 
has?” 

“ You were both of you very ready to take the unfortunate Mr. 
Fletcher’s money, anyhow,” sneered Annie ; “ the very frocks we 
are wearing at this moment were bought with it.” 

“ My poor Dora,” sighed the Canon. “ God forgive me, God 
forgive me, for no-t being kinder to you,” and the cleric turned 
round and leaned his elbows on the mantelpiece and buried his 
face in his hands to conceal his emotion, 


The Canon Parts His Coat Tails. 159 

“ You appear to be much fonder of that girl than you are of 
your own daughters, Arthur,” said Mrs. Leighton, snappishly. 

Annie rose from her seat and went up to her father with the 
tears streaming down her face. “ Don’t give up hope yet, dear 
papa ; perhaps we may have news soon,” said she. 

The butler at that moment entered the room with the London 
papers and two telegrams on a silver salver, which he offered to 
the Canon, who mechanically took the latter, while Annie caught 
hold of the newspapers. 

” Hulloa,” said the Canon, excitedly, as he tore open the enve- 
lopes, “two cables from the States! What’s this?” shouted he. 
“ The lost are found. From Slocum, New York City. And, hur- 
rah 1 here’s one from Dora herself, from Cleveland, Ohio. 

“ ‘ Dear Uncle, we have both turned up and are well and happy. 
The Auditorium Hotel, Chicago, will find us. Dora Clark.’ ” 

The Canon in a delirium of excitement pushed the button of the 
electric bell frantically. The butler immediately appeared; he 
had been waiting outside the door to hear the news, as both he 
and all the other servants had been very much attached to Dora, 
and were very anxious respecting her fate. 

“ Harding,” cried the Canon, “ Miss Dora, I mean Mrs. 
Fletcher, is safe and well. Bring up a bottle of the best cham- 
pagne, with glasses, for us to drink her health, and open a bottle 
for the servants to do the same. But why is it she signs herself 
‘Dora Clark’?” 

“ I can tell you, dear papa,” said Annie, crying and laughing 
hysterically. “ See here,” said she, handing him the Times news- 
paper. “ Here’s a whole column with big letter headings.” 

“ Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher found. They had both been kidnapped. 
Remarried on Friday in Old Trinity Church, Broadway. Now 
Mr. and Mrs. James Clark. Husband only son of Joshua Clark, 
the Californian millionaire, the Aluminum King. Great excite- 
ment in New York and San Francisco. New York Journal pub- 
lished the glad tidings in a special edition last night.” 

“ Oh, this is immense news,” cried the Canon, as the butler 
rushed into the room with the champagne and uncorked the bottle 
with a flop and spilled half of it with excitement, as he filled the 
glasses. 

“ Long life and happiness to Mr. and Mrs. Clark,” shouted the 
Canon. The health was duly honored. Mrs. Leighton, Rachel 
and Agatha, of course, joining in the toast, looking like wooden 


i6o A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

images. The wine, good as it was, must have tasted like gall and 
wormwood to them, after the unkind expressions they had just 
given vent to. 

“ Please, miss,” said the butler to Annie, “ will you lend me the 
Telegraph to take down-stairs for a few minutes? All the servants 
are just dying to see the account.” 

“ Take it, Harding,” said Annie. “ We have got The Times,’' 
and to judge by the uproar that proceeded from the servants’ hall 
one would have thought that the Canon’s staid domestics had 
gone suddenly crazy. All that day, and for several days after, a 
succession of visitors poured in upon the Rectory, and the postal 
authorities at Canterbury were overwhelmed with the stream of 
wires and cables that came ticking in from all parts ; not only from 
Great Britain and Ireland, but the Colonies, the United States, 
and even the continent of Europe. The case had created a pro- 
digious excitement all over the civilized world, and the Leightons 
found themselves transformed into public characters. Among 
the telegrams was one from their Majesties, the King and Queen 
of England, and the Prime Minister. The joy of the good people 
of Canterbury was naturally increased by the fact that a lady from 
their very midst was now the wife of the only son of one of the 
world’s richest men. A special service of thanksgiving was held 
in the Cathedral, and not only the Canon, but the Dean and Chap- 
ter and the Mayor and Corporation of the city, cabled to Chicago, 
felicitating the happy couple. 


Diamonds And Devils. 


i6i 


, CHAPTER XVIIL 

DIAMONDS AND DEVILS. 

Our travelers had just finished breakfast when the train entered 
the Illinois Central depot, after a very fast run. They were met by 
Captain Dawlish, and accompanied that gentleman to the Audi- 
torium Hotel, Michigan Avenue. The Captain had certainly done 
his work well, and if Dora had been a live princess, he could not 
have shown more forethought or a greater attention to detail. 
The finest suite of apartments in the hotel had been secured. A 
most charming room was allotted to Mrs. Clark as her private 
boudoir, and had been refurnished at Mr. Joshua Clark’s expense. 
On one side it opened into her and Jim’s bedroom, and on the other 
into a fine drawing-room, which in its turn communicated directly 
with a private dining-room^ the old man’s and the Captain’s bed- 
rooms being on the other side of the last named apartment. 

The fame of the Clarks had naturally preceded them, and they 
found that their arrival created as much interest as if they had been 
scions of a European royal family, or a gang of champion prize- 
fighters on a tour. 

After lunch the whole party sallied out to show Dora some of the 
chief attractions of the great Windy City. They hied them first to 
Messrs. Marshal Fields’ great dry goods store on State Street. 
Dora was greatly pleased with this high-class establishment. She 
was then taken to see the Board of Trade and the Masonic 
Temple, having been safely dropped from heaven to earth in the 
lightning elevator of this last named building, Jim remarked, 
looking at his watch, that it was time for them to return to the 
hotel. 

“ What for ? ” said Dora, inquisitively. “ I am not aware, dear, 
that we have any engagement. You and Daddy have got some 
joke on, it started before we left New York, and you two have 
kept it up ever since. I really think it is awful mean of you, Jim. 

ii 


i 62 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

A husband should not have any secrets which he cannot share with 
his wife. Please, Daddy, tell me what it is.” 

However, all the answer she got was a violent explosion of 
laughter from the old man accompanied by sundry nudges and 
winks between him and his son. In vain she appealed to the 
Captain, for he frankly told her that he knew nothing at all of 
any scheme. So she had to abandon the quest, and they then 
entered their carriage and returned to the hotel, and Dora was 
soon presiding over the tea table in her boudoir. 

The Captain had been rather distrait during the afternoon, and 
several times when he thought Dora wasn’t looking, stared at her 
with a puzzled expression on his face. At last, during a slight 
lull in the conversation, he said, in a hesitating manner : 

“ Pardon me, Mrs. Clark, but did you have a relation in the 
Indian army of the name of Leighton? He was a very gallant 
officer and held the rank of major in the same regiment in which 
I was a subaltern. He was unfortunately killed in a scrimmage 
we had with one of the Pathan tribes on the Northwest Frontier. 
I only ask the question because there is a remarkable likeness 
between the late Major and yourself.” 

“ He was my dear father,” replied Dora quietly. ‘‘ I am so 
glad, indeed, to meet a brother officer of his. You must tell me all 
about him when we are alone. How strangely things come about. 
I was only a little girl when my dear father left England for the 
East.” 

” You are quite a big girl now, Dora, anyway,” said her hus- 
band, laughing. 

‘‘ I hope I shan’t get fat some day,” said Dora ; that would be 
too dreadful. There is one comfort, the members of my family 
do not run to flesh.” 

“ I feel inclined to run to flesh if it were in the shape of a 
good porterhouse steak, done pretty rare,” said Jim. 

“ I guess, my dear,” said the old man, ‘‘ you are getting my son 
into training as a wit. He never showed up much in that line 
before he met you. But to change the subject. I have taken the 
stage box on the grand tier at the opera to-night, so, madam, 
you will have to put on your full war-paint and just take the shine 
out of the women folk of these pork packers. See here, there 
are two columns about us in the Chicago American, with portraits. 
Great Scot! we shall have a whole tribe of reporters here soon. 
iVell^ I won’t see them this evening, anyhow. I leave you to 


Diamonds And Devils. 


163 

arrange an interview to-morrow, Dawlish. They will be as thick 
as turkey buzzards round a dead horse in the Great American 
Desert.’' 

Just as Mr. Clark was speaking the door opened, and the Eng- 
lish butler, whom the old man had imported himself, announced 
in his big, pompous manner, Mr. and Mrs. Slocum. 

“ How quite too charming ! What a delightful surprise, dear 
Bella,” cried Dora, rising from the tea table and embracing the 
lawyer’s wife, and shaking hands very warmly with the Judge 
himself at one and at the same time. 

“ And do you mean to say, dear,” said Mrs. Slocum, “ that 
these two gentlemen” (pointing to Jim and his father) “ never 
informed you that we were coming? ” 

“Not a word, Bella dear,” said Dora, ‘ though I knew there 
was something in the wind from their mysterious manner and 
whisperings, when they thought I wasn’t listening.” 

“ Men are better at keeping a secret than we women,” replied 
Mrs. Slocum. 

“ Jim and I, Dora, planned this as a genuine surprise party, in 
return for the one you favored us with,” said the old man. 

“ And I must say you have succeeded admirably. Daddy,” re- 
plied Dora, smiling. 

“ The fact is,” said Mr. Clark, “ I have some very important 
matters of business to discuss with the Judge, whom I thought, 
too, required a change, and I left it to him to persuade his charm- 
ing wife to accompany him on a run with us to ’Frisco, and on a 
little round trip afterwards.” 

“ I want all you people to understand clearly,” said Mrs. 
Slocum, “ that I did not require the least persuasion to come.” 

“ I hope you have got plenty of room for luggage on your 
train, Mr. Clark,” said the lawyer, “ for my wife has, as usual, 
brought some pretty big trunks with her.” 

“ You will find all that O. K., Judge,” said the old man. “ I 
have requisitioned every car of my train for our journey. I 
hope. Judge, that you and your wife will manage to make your- 
selves comfortable.” 

“ I am sure,” said Mrs. Slocum, “ that we shall never have 
traveled so luxuriously before. Now, Dora dear, please give me 
a cup of tea, and then we will retire to your room and have a 
lovely chat before dressing for dinner. I understand that we are 
going to the opera to-night, so we shall have to decorate pretty 


164 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

considerable. But, I say, Dora,” continued she, picking up a 
paper-covered volume from the table, “ do you go in for dime 
novels, love and -divorce, blood and thunder sort of things ? I 
am quite ashamed of you.” 

” I plead guilty, Bella dear, for a penchant for sensational 
literature, but this one is wildly exciting. There is an account of 
a train hold-up awfully well told,” replied Dora. 

“ I should have thought, Mrs. Clark,” said the lawyer, “ that 
you have had enough sensational experience of your own to last 
you for the term of your natural life.” 

“ Oh, she is looking for more trouble all the time, aren’t you, 
darling? ” said Jim. 

“ I think at any rate we shall be safe enough with so many 
valiant gentlemen to protect us, eh_, Bella ? ” said Dora, with a 
ringing laugh. 

“ I guess you have given me a very valuable hint, Dora,” said 
old man Clark, “ that will put us on our guard. Gentlemen, I 
must request you to carry your guns on your persons as long as 
we are on board the train. It is just as well to be on the safe 
side. I shall also arm the conductors and all the servants, so as 
to be ready against a surprise party of an unpleasant nature. 
Jim is one of the toniest pistol shots in the country, and I may 
say, without bragging, that I am still no slouch with a six- 
shooter. Slocum, I know you have had practice in holding up 
reporters, and, Dawlish, you have seen service and, of course, 
can handle a revolver.” 

“ To tell you the truth, sir,” replied the Captain, “ pistol prac- 
tice is shamefully neglected in the British army. I confess to 
being a good shot with a fowling-piece, and also with a rifle, but 
the less said about my ability with the smaller firearms the bet- 
ter. I will, however, put in a few hours’ practice while we are in 
this city, so you can count on me at any rate to do my duty ifi 
case of need.” 

“ You people,” said Dora, “ are talking as if an attack on the 
train was a part of the program. I really believe. Daddy, that 
you and Jim would enjoy a mix up. You are a most bloodthirsty 
pair.” 

“ It is our duty to take needful precautions, my dear,” replied 
the old man. “ Including cash, jewelry, and gold and silver plate 
there will be something considerably over $1,000,000 worth of 
plunder on my train, and besides it wouldn’t suit my book, and 


Diamonds And Devils. 165 

I am sure it wouldn't Jim's, to have to tamely submit to be robbed. 
I would rather forfeit $5,000,000." 

" By the Holy, you are right, Daddy," said Jim, impetuously. 
“ If any one gets the drop on me I give him leave to put a bullet 
through my brain. Why, ladies and gentlemen, with my reputa- 
tion I should be the laughing-stock of all the sports in the United 
States of America if I had to hold up my hands." 

That night there was a grand performance of Gounod's Faust ; 
but, though the rendering of that old-time, but immortal opera 
was most brilliant, the chief attraction of the crowded house 
seemed to be diverted from the stage, for, from the moment that 
the Clark party took their seats every pair of eyes and of lor- 
gnettes, too, within range were directed to their box. 

Dora simply looked superb in an exquisite princess gown of 
ivory satin, decollette in the most fashionable Parisian style, and 
draped with the rarest point d’Alencon lace. The corsage fairly 
blazed with the diamonds her husband had given her, and her 
splendid tiara and necklace made the hearts of the fair Chicagoans 
throb fast with envy. When she entered the box she wore a long 
cloak of purple velvet deeply trimmed with ermine. This truly 
imperial garment was not altogether discarded (as the weather 
was very cold and the house none too warm), but partly thrown 
back off her shoulders as she sat down. Her appearance caused 
the ceaseless buzz of conversation to die away as if by a precon- 
certed signal. A tremor of involuntary admiration seemed to 
thrill through that vast assemblage, and it would have taken little 
to have changed the opening bars of the overture which the 
orchestra was just commencing into the national anthem, so en- 
tranced were all the musicians. In fact, the whole house was on 
the very point of rising to its feet and cheering wildly, simply 
to relieve its feelings. Dora, indeed, looked more than regal, for 
no royal personage of certainly modern times could have held a 
candle to her when it came to sheer loveliness and grace com- 
bined, and though that beauty could probably have held its own 
unassisted by adornment, still, as the sparkling of a priceless gem 
is increased by the tastefulness of its setting, and the merits of a 
noble picture are shown to advantage by a befitting frame, so 
transcendent beauty, such as Dora's, is further enhanced by rare 
jewels and exquisite apparel. On her right hand sat the old 
man, feeling as proud as any king of his daug'iter-in-law’s evident 
triumph ; on her left sat Mrs. Slocum, looking very handsome in 


1 66 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

black velvet and point lace ; the latter lady’s beauty and diamonds 
would have commanded attention by themselves anywhere, but 
they were both paled by the glories of her next-door neighbor. 
Jim, Slocum and Dawlish stood or sat behind. Jim had an in- 
tensely-pleased, half-defiant look on his resolute face as he leant 
on the back of his wife’s chair, as much as to say, “ This lady is 
my very own property. I am glad that you all admire her.” 

Dora was not sorry when the curtain fell on the last scene of the 
final act, and the soul of the repentant Marguerite, having been 
conveyed by a brace of 140-pound theatrical angels to the stage 
Paradise, her earthly representative, a famous soprano, retired to 
partake of a substantial refection after her labors, while the tenor, 
Faust, and the rather portly Mephistophelean baritone, having 
gone to figurative blazes, proceeded behind the scenes to moisten 
their dusty throats with long draughts of Bass’s ale or Guiness’s 
stout from capacious tankards. 

Dora, throughout the whole performance, had felt rather em- 
barrassed at first by the prodigious sensation she had obviously 
created. It must be borne in mind that this was practically her 
debut in public. No wonder that she felt slightly nervous, but 
she nevertheless played her part as a brand-new society queen 
with brilliant success; self-consciousness, that bane of ill-bred peo- 
ple, was in her conspicuous by its absence. There was a natural 
grace in her every gesture and movement. The old adage, that 
fine feathers make fine birds, had, in her case, no application. She 
was one of that select few who seem born to the purple, like a cer- 
tain young American Duchess of Dutch ancestry, who, married 
when fresh from school, near the close of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, amazed the fashionable world by at once displaying an in- 
nate, almost miraculous, aptitude for the duties and graces of her 
exalted station. 

There was a jovial after-the-opera supper party in the mil- 
lionaire’s private dining-room at the Auditorium that night. After 
a delicious meal, specially prepared by Mon. Joseph, that most 
delightful period at length arrived: I mean the coffee, liqueur, 
cigars and cigarette stage. It is then that if a man or woman is 
capable of saying anything smart, it is the appointed time to say 
it. But with most people it is all take and no give, though they 
put so many good things into their mouths, few or none issue from 
those necessary orifices. But this was not the case with the mem- 
bers of our party, and each one contributed his or her quota to 


Diamonds And Devils. 167 

the rollicking mirth of the supper table. At length the Judge 
observed : 

“ If Faust really produced from his pocket a casket of jewels 
equal to yours, Mrs. Clark, no wonder that poor simple-minded 
Marguerite succumbed to the dire temptation. The two principal 
feminine weaknesses seem to be, curiosity and the love of personal 
adornment. The first caused the fall of our Mother Eve, the 
second proved the ruin of the fair Marguerite.’’ 

“ It is my opinion,” said Dawlish, “ that Eve ate the apple as 
an excuse to clothe herself, and though her fig-leaf costume may 
not have been tailor-made in the strict meaning of the phrase, 
still it may have been very fetching nevertheless.” 

“ In this sense,” said Mrs. Slocum, “ there is a parallel between 
the two temptations, and the locus dramatis in each case was a 
garden. There certainly is something very alluring about such a 
place. It was in a garden, Uriah, that you proposed to me.” 

“ And you could not resist his special pleading, Bella dear,” 
said Mrs. Clark, laughing. 

” It was in August, after dinner, the full moon was shining 
brightly. I had just finished an excellent cigar, and Bella looked 
quite too too in a pink India diaphanous muslin frock, with polka 
dots. Shall I ever forget that night which made me the happiest 
man in the wide, wide world? ” and the Judge smacked his lips as 
he finished his cup of Turkish coffee. 

“ That’s a bully fine word, ‘ diaphanous,’ anyway, but what does 
it mean, Dora?” said Jim, not in the least ashamed of his own 
ignorance. 

“ Transparent, stupid,” replied his wife. 

“Why am I transparent stupid, dear?” said Jim, mistaking 
her meaning. 

“ If it was transparent, I hope you wore something beside the 
muslin, Mrs. Slocum,” said the old man. “ If you didn’t, no 
wonder the Judge was mashed.” 

This remark of Mr. Clark, who wasn’t always very particular 
what he said, made Mrs. Slocum blush furiously, and her husband 
feel that he wished he hadn’t spoken. 

Pitying the embarrassment of her two friends, Dora, disregard- 
ing her husband’s question, changed the conversation, by saying : 

“ By the way, I suppose you all remarked three men in a box 
opposite; the middle one of the trio was a very tall, big, dark 
man with a great scar over his left eyebrow. It must be a dread- 


i68 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

fill disfigurement to an otherwise very handsome face, as I could 
see it ” (the scar) “ quite plainly with my opera-glasses. Well, 
he and his companions were looking at me the whole time, and 
made me feel very uncomfortable.” 

“ I don’t think they were singular in this respect,” said the old 
man, laughing, “ there were hundreds of others in the stalls and 
dress circle who evidently took far more interest in my most 
charming daughter-in-law than in the stage Marguerite.” 

“ But that is not all,” said Dora seriously. I saw those same 
men when we entered Marshal Field’s to-day, and they were 
loafing around when we came out. Also, we brushed up against 
them in the lobby of the theater, and I heard the man with the 
scar whisper to one of his comrades, ‘ That’s the lady with the 
diamonds.’ I am sure that it was my jewels and not my per- 
sonality that attracted these individuals.” 

“ To ease your mind, dear,” said old Clark, “ I will have your 
gems placed in the strong room of the hotel to-night. I have a 
safe on board my train that will defy the attack of the most skilled 
bank robber, unless he is provided with high explosives.” 

The Judge sat still and said nothing, but seemed to think a 
great deal. 

“ Oh, these men are only some cranks,” said Jim. By the 
way, do any of you people know which is the largest opera-house 
in the world ? ” 

There were various guesses, Dawlish hazarding “ The Scala ” 
at Milan ; Slocum naming the San Carlos at Naples ; Dora, 
Covent Garden, London; the old man, the Metropolitan, New 
York, and the lawyer’s wife (for fun) the Yum Yum Theater, of 
Yokohama, Japan. 

“ You are all off your bases,” said Jim. The Auditorium, 
Chicago, the house we have just left, takes the biscuit; it affords 
sitting room to nearly 8,000 persons.” 

Oh, what a surprise,” said Dawlish, “ you might have won 
a whole wad of bills by offering to bet on it.” 

“ I have given my word not to gamble or bet except by the 
special permission of that laBy,” said Jim, pointing as he spoke 
to Dora. 

“ Isn’t Jim a good boy. Daddy? ” 

“ Very good and obedient, but the worst of it is, that whenever 
he does gamble or bet, you will get blamed for giving him per- 
mission, my dear,” replied the millionaire. 


Diamonds And Devils. 169 

What martyrs we poor women are, aren^t we, Bella ? ” said 
Dora with a mock sigh. 

“ Yours is a very pleasant kind of martyrdom anyway, dear,^’ 
said Mrs. Slocum, laughing. 

“ Well, Bella,” said Dora, “ we had better martyrize these gen- 
tlemen by depriving them of our agreeable company, or our 
complexions will suffer by keeping too late hours, and we will 
entrust our gallant knights with the safe-keeping of our jewels,” 
and she arose and took off her glittering tiara and necklace, and 
Mrs. Slocum quickly followed her friend’s example. 

“ Don’t let the dark man with a scar take my diamonds from 
you, Jim,” said Dora, laughing. 

“ It would take more than five dark men to do the business, since 
my Colt would dispose of that number,” said Jim grimly. 

“ And why only five, Jim,” said the lawyer, “ yours is a six- 
shooter ? ” 

“ Yes,” replied Jim, but I always keep the hammer down in 
an empty chamber for safety sake.” 

The ladies now said good night and retired, and Jim, accom- 
panied by Dawlish and the Judge, went down the elevator to the 
office, and as they were returning, having carefully deposited the 
costly gems in safety, the Judge remarked in a low tone to Jim : 

“ I just caught a glimpse of the man with a scar as we emerged 
from the elevator ; he was leaving the office in the direction of the 
bar-room; a dose of lead would suit his constitution admirably.” 

“ Do you think he is a wrong ’un, Judge? ” said Jim. 

“ I am sure of it,” replied the Judge. And the three men 
rejoined Mr. Clark, and it was a late, or rather early, hour before 
they sought their downy couches. 


170 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE KODAKING OF THE ANARCHIST. 

The lawyer was in the habit of keeping a private diary, not 
in the spasmodic way most people do, for the purpose of merely 
jotting down silly trivialities. No, his was a faithful and well 
written up account of all the interesting episodes that happened 
in the course of his experience, together with thumb-nail sketches 
of the various remarkable persons who from time to time crossed 
his path, and many a romance writer or student of human nature 
would have given considerable money for a perusal of those mys- 
terious volumes that were securely locked in the lawyer’s safe, 
and which were scanned by no eye but his own. For not even was 
his beloved wife allowed access to them. These volumes con- 
tained secrets that would, like calf-bound bomb-shells, have blown 
sky high many a fair reputation and have exposed in all their star- 
ing ghastliness the criss-cross obliquities of man’s (and woman’s, 
too) fallen nature. Slocum’s extensive practice brought him 
into contact with all sorts and conditions of men, which any phi- 
losopher might have realized by watching, on a busy day, the pro- 
cession of different types of humanity that visited his office in the 
Times Building, Broadway, our philosopher would have seen pass 
by in kaleidoscopic succession the strangely different individuals 
that go towards making up the clientele of a celebrated lawyer. 
First, perhaps, strides by a financial magnate of Wall Street, 
•sleek, prosperous looking, and irreproachably attired to consult 
the sage concerning the legal aspect of some great joint stock 
corporation with much watered capital. This one might be suc- 
ceeded by a popular variety actress who had just commenced 
a libel suit for farcically grandiose damages against a yellow 
newspaper, which suit will do more than her acting towards 
enhancing her reputation. The next on the list might be a fast 
young Newport swell, endeavoring to raise the wind in order to 
enable him to keep his end up in society, and to continue his 


The Kodaking Of The Anarchist- 17 1 

career of crazy extravagance. Then the rustling frou frou of 
silken skirts announces the arrival at the legal den of some Fifth 
Avenue dame who is consulting her attorney as to the advisability 
of obtaining a divorce against her husband, whose marital infideli- 
ties with the Totties and Hetties of the vaudeville stage are the 
talk of the town. And so on and so on. Thus we may learn 
that Mr. Slocum seldom lacked materials for filling the pages of 
his diary. 

When out for a jaunt, such as the present one, his entries were 
more voluminous and more carefully worded than usual. Con- 
sequently I shall take an author’s privilege and have recourse to 
the manuscript reflections of our legal friend for a succinct narra- 
tive of the events of the next few days. 

March i. 

There is no mistake about Jim Clark being a lucky fellow; 
what a glorious creature his wife is; she is the sort of woman a 
man could die for, but I don’t feel at all comfortable about her ; 
one can’t tell what may happen in this toughest of all tough cities. 
There may be a scheme afloat to kidnap her, or steal her diamonds, 
or God knows what. That dark man must be watched ; he has 
evidently confederates. I caught on to the fact that he and his 
two pals were shadowing Mrs. Clark in the opera last night before 
she did. I haven’t been mixed up with detectives during twenty 
years for nothing. Any how, I have done all I could, for I went 
early this morning before breakfast to the chief of the Chicago 
police, and gave him a careful description of the man and his 
friends. I will keep my eyes open and take a chance of kodaking 
the scoundrels. I should not be surprised to find that they are 
wanted for some crime or other. The big fellow may be an 
Italian anarchist; that scar over his left eye looks as if it had 
been done with a knuckle-duster or the claw of a hammer. I 
didn’t mention a word about it to any of the party at breakfast ; 
it would have only alarmed them and done no good, but I shall 
be glad when we have left this hot-bed of villainy. 

Breakfast being over, the Clarks had to submit to the necessary 
ordeal of being interviewed. Now, reporters are a much abused 
class of men, and mostly unjustly so, in my opinion. They are 
often looked upon by the uninterviewed public as most imperti- 
nent, vulgar, and aggressive individuals. But the fact is, they 
constitute, as a rule, a very estimable, hardworking fraternity; 
they have to push and hustle, and in doing so are sometimes apt to 


172 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

give offence ; but it must be remembered that these men are not 
out for their health, but to gain subsistence for themselves and 
their families. Their business is to supply the newspapers that 
employ them with copy of a more or less interesting character ; 
this is their raison de^etre, and if they failed in accomplishing their 
mission they would soon find themselves on the street. The press 
is the most tremendously powerful institution of modern times. 
The preacher, the promoter, the politician, and the popinjay of 
society are its instruments. Every one is influenced by it from 
the senator to the shoe-black. Hence it is only common wisdom 
to conciliate so irresistible a power for good or evil report. Agree 
with thine adversary quickly whilst thou are in the way with him, 
as the good old book says. It is impossible for any one who has 
said, wrote, or done anything remarkable now-a-days to escape 
notoriety, but notoriety may be either gilt-edged or black-edged, 
This depends to a greater extent than is supposed on the inter- 
viewed. Civility and readiness to oblige cost nothing, but their 
absence may lend a disagreeable coloring to the account of the 
interview in the columns of the next day’s Argus or Tomahawk. 

By my advice the reporters were shown into the private dining- 
room and provided with copious supplies of champagne and 
cigars, while I bore the brunt of the interview by helping to fill a 
page or two of each note-book with unimportant information. 
Then I summoned the three Clarks, who courteously answered 
the questions that were put to them ; Dora, in regard to her Kent- 
ish home, her diamonds, and dresses, Jim about his European and 
wild Western experiences, and the old man in reference to his 
private train and plans for the immediate future. The magnates 
then left Dawlish and I to entertain our guests, who had a bully 
time, as they not only acknowledged, but proved by publishing 
the most glowing accounts of the old man’s wealth and liberality, 
Dora’s beauty and affability, and Jim Clark’s grit and manliness. 
When we had got rid of the gentlemen of the fourth estate (as 
they say in the old country, the other three being the Sovereign, 
the Lords, and the Commons) we made a move in the direction of 
the Rock Island depot, where we found our famous train on a 
side track in charge of a gang of detectives and railway officials. 
The desire of the general public to see the wonderful outfit was 
so great that Mr. Clark, with his usual urbanity, agreed to allow 
visitors to gratify their curiosity by the payment of a dollar a 
head, the proceeds to go to the Chicago hospitals. And it may 


The Kodaking Of The Anarchist. 173 

be said Here that the treasuries of these institutions were benefited 
to quite a considerable extent by the sum so collected, supple- 
mented by a most liberal donation from the boss. 

Mr. Clark played the part of our cicerone with great glee. 
Neither my wife nor I had ever seen the whole train in all its 
glory before, and we were therefore all the more astonished and 
delighted at this extraordinary combination of convenience, 
luxury, utility, and splendor. 

I must now put pen to paper, in order to give some sort of a 
description of old man Clark’s private train which is a creation 
of his own. Land transportation has always been his great hobby. 
It does not require a study of the works of Spencer and of 
Darwin to prove to any sane intellect the universality of the law 
of evolution. We see it going on about us everywhere, and all 
the time, whether it be the formation by the nebular hypothesis 
of a solar system out of spiral whirls of incandescent cosmic dust, 
or the splendid up-to-date railroad locomotive from the ram- 
shackling old rattletrap, Robert Stevenson’s immortal “ Rocket.” 
By a similar process from a single car was gradually developed 
the old man’s magnificent train of seventy foot long aluminum 
cars. 

With some men immense wealth merely means the possession of 
so many bonds with the accompanying coupons, the satisfaction of 
having acquired the controlling interest in some mighty corpora- 
tion. The proud consciousness of possessing the (to them, per- 
haps) one thing needful and the being able to plunge their arms to 
the shoulder in a bath filled with five-dollar gold pieces. Such 
men possess the potentiality of wealth, that is all. It is merely 
so much stored-up energy in their hands, and they lack the 
ability to release this fertilizing agent and to guide it into channels 
for their own enjoyment, as well as for that of others. Every 
man should have a hobby ; it is a grown man’s plaything ; it helps 
to keep him young, to divert his mind from the harassing, absorb- 
ing occupations of money getting and money keeping, and if the 
hobby is a costly one, provided you are rich enough to indulge in 
it, what does it matter ; it helps to distribute so much superfluous 
cash to those who need it, amuses you and hurts no one. So 
long live hobbies, say I. Mr. Clark did not care about holding 
great estates or of lavishing money on yachts and Newport 
cottages. So his horses, his autos, and his train, and I presume, 
when they materialize, his air-ships, are all the hobby-horses he 
cares (at least for the present) to ride. 


1 74 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

The train consists of eleven cars and a special water tank, which 
is coupled on to the tender. This tank holds the reserve supply of 
water for the train. Each car is furnished with a cistern which, 
when full, will give a supply sufficient for ordinary requirements, 
including baths, and these cisterns are filled from the tank car 
each time the train stops, and the tank itself is refilled ; should 
any extra water supply be required in addition, the tank is drawn 
upon to furnish the deficit. Thus there is no danger of falling 
short of the first necessary of life, as all the cars are constructed 
of that very light material aluminum, the additional weight of the 
tanks and of the cisterns is comparatively slight. Immediately 
following the water tank are two cars, named for short the 
service diner ” and the “ service sleeper,” in order named. These 
are exclusively for the use of the servants and train conductors. 
The first named is used for the following purposes, and is divided 
therefore into a corresponding number of distinct sections. First, 
for carrying the servants’ baggage ; second, for the cold storage of 
their provisions ; third, for providing a kitchen pantry and small 
cellar; fourth, for a servant’s dining-room. The service sleeper 
is divided into two distinct sections, for providing sleeping accom- 
modations for males and females, with two bath and dressing- 
rooms for each section. I understand that when Mr. Clark Is 
traveling with his secretary he only utilizes half of his train. The 
whole staff consists of a butler and three footmen, and a spare 
man, a French chef, a woman cook, and two kitchen girl helps, 
and ladies’ maids varying, of course, in number, each lady guest 
being at liberty to bring her own attendant. This staff Mr. Clark 
considers (and rightly so) to be amply sufficient for all purposes. 
The servants’ sleeper is on the Pullman plan. The men can 
smoke in their own section, the portion set apart for women being 
reserved as a general sitting-room for those of either sex who 
object to the use of tobacco. Next to the service cars come four 
cars, devoted to the private use (sleeping and otherwise) of the 
family and guests. These cars are named “ The Bachelor,” “ The 
Married,” “ Mr. Clark’s Special,” and the Bridal,” and follow 
each other in order named. The first containing six state-rooms 
of ample size, each pair being separated by a bath-room for the 
joint use of the occupants of the two state-rooms; of course, each 
suite can be used if required for a married couple, one of the apart- 
ments in that case serving as a dressing-room. Our party being 
such a small one, this, car is quite untenanted by guests, and s j 


175 


The Kodaking Of The Anarchist. 

the butler, chef, and the two conductors are allowed the use of 
it. The married car is a still more luxurious affair, and provides 
splendid accommodations for three married couples, a fine bed- 
room, bath-room and dressing-room (which latter contains a bed) 
being allotted to each suite, as well as a bed and bath-room for a 
lady’s maid, who sleeps there so as to be on hand if required at 
any time by the inmates of the car. The Clark special is reserved 
exclusively for the old man and his secretary, and is furnished 
with every appliance conducive to convenience and luxury. In 
addition to the two suites, there is a private study, where Mr. Clark 
can transact his business, and in this is an exceedingly strong safe 
for the deposit of jewelry, money, and other valuables. The bridal 
car is a miracle of taste and beauty ; on it money has been lavished 
like water. The bedroom is a very nest of love and splendor. 
This, of course, is the nightly abode of Jim and his wife; each 
has a beautiful dressing-room, and in addition there is a room for 
the lady’s clothes and an exquisite private boudoir; there is 
accommodation, also, for her maid. Next to the bridal comes a 
bath car, where men and women can obtain a Russian or steam 
bath, there being two separate divisions. The old man is a 
stanch believer in this form of bathing. I am told that at Alum- 
inum House at ’Frisco are the most perfect Russian and Turkish 
private baths in the world, In selecting his servants, Mr. Clark 
always gives preference to those who have learnt the art of 
massage, and as he pays exceedingly high wages, and is most con- 
siderate to those in his employment, he is always able to command 
the services of those who suit him in this respect. So, either of 
the footmen and women kitchen helps, as well as Dora’s lady’s 
maid, are available to act as shampooers in the bath car, if re- 
quired. But in addition the spare man before mentioned is de- 
tailed specially to look after the baths and see that they are in 
working order night and day. Behind the bath car comes a car 
for cold storage, as well as for other purposes. Here all the pro- 
visions and wine for the use of the family and guests are bestowed, 
and there is also a strong safe where is placed the gold and silver- 
plate and a section for crockery of all descriptions, and an ample 
space for the luggage of the party. 

The last three cars of this wonderful train are the “ Diner,” 
the “ Drawing-room,” and the Smoker,” in order named. In 
a portion of the “ Diner ” nearest the engine is located a superbly 
complete kitchen with a scullery and pantry. These communicate 


176 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

by means of a corridor with the dining-room, which is richly and 
quietly upholstered in brown velvet and gold, the woodwork being 
in mahogany. The “ Drawing-room,” a splendid apartment, fifty 
feet in length, is furnished d la Louis Seize, in sapphire blue velvet, 
silver, and rose wood; is terminated by a delicious boudoir. On 
the end nearest the “ Diner ” is an apartment forming a sitting- 
room for one or more lady’s maids within call of their mistreses. 
The “ Smoker ” is the room where I shall expect to pass the 
greater portion of each day, and is sufficiently remarkable to 
require a separate description. In the end nearest the drawing- 
room is a section for the use of a conductor and of one of the men 
servants who may be detailed to be in attendance on the smoking 
car. Next to this section is a small bar-room, where the requisites 
are placed for providing for every conceivable kind of drink, from 
a Manhattan cocktail or a mint julep to Scotch whisky, or Bass’ 
ale in bottle or on draught (this last being the particular tipple of 
the great Jim). Past these two chambers runs a short corridor 
communicating with the smoking-room itself, the very ideal abode 
of the worshiper at the shrine of St. Nicotina. Here is every 
species of easy lounge from the orthodox American rocker to the 
English sofa armchair ; also one finds every convenience for writ- 
ing and reading, together with a small, though well-selected, 
library, including a very ample collection of English and French 
novels, besides works of reference and a goodly contribution of 
solid literature. It has given me great pleasure in noting for my 
future reference all these details, as this extraordinary train has 
made a great and abiding impression on me. 

When we had completed our inspection, we returned to the hotel 
for lunch. Whilst washing my hands I was called on the ’phone 
by one of the chief officers of the police in the city. He informed 
me that he had every reason to suppose that the dark man with a 
scar over his eye is a dangerous character, an anarchist and an 
assassin, named Sarpi, formerly a bandit and the chief of one of 
the worst secret societies in Italy. For the New York police 
had recently been warned by the Italian Government through its 
ambassador at Washington of the recent arrival in the States 
of this desperado with several sworn comrades for the purpose 
of collecting funds to further their object, which was no less than 
the wholesale assassination of European sovereigns. The officer 
went on to say that the police had as yet received no instructions, 
either in regard to the shadowing or the arrest of the conspirators^ 


The Kodaking Of The Anarchist. i77 

though it was known that they had been in Chicago for at least a 
week. This information made me think a good deal, and 1 was 
still pondering over the matter when my wife came into my dress- 
ing-room to inform me that they were awaiting my arrival to 
begin lunch. I must say that it does seem a terrible mistake that 
from fear of interference with the personal freedom of the indi- 
vidual, neither the English nor the American Governments will 
distinguish license from liberty. People, such as anarchists, nihil- 
ists, and all other “ ists ” of like nature are simply enemies of the 
human race, and should be exterminated. And the only way to 
effect so desirable an object would be to deprive them of any 
asylum in the shape of a civilized country. There should be a 
universal Bund like the International Postal Union, and all polit- 
ical criminals should be subject to a universal extradition law by 
which they should be liable to be handed over on demand to the 
government against whose members or constitution they are plot- 
ting. 

Though I felt inclined to be rather gloomy myself, I found 
the rest of the party in the highest possible spirits, laughing and 
chatting merrily. 

“ Come, Judge,” said the old man, “ you shouldn’t worry your- 
self about your business when you are out for a vacation.” 

‘‘ Oh, I wasn’t worrying myself,” I replied, “ I was just obtain- 
ing some information concerning a little matter of mine from the 
police.” 

“ And have you been successful ? ” said Mrs. Clark. 

“ I believe so,” I replied carelessly, “ but what are you people 
going to do this afternoon ? ” 

“ Bella and I are going shopping,” replied Dora. “ Daddy says 
he requires a nap, and Jim wants you Judge, and Dawlish to go 
with him to the Athletic Club and have a Russian bath; he has 
just received cards of introduction from the secretary.” 

“ I don’t feel inclined for a steam bath to-day. I think I 
will accompany the ladies,” I said. 

“ We shall be charmed to have you. Judge,” said Mrs. Clark, 

but I am afraid you will be bored waiting around ; we shall be 
probably two hours at Marshal Fields’.” 

“ Oh, Uriah is a splendid ’squire of dames,” said my wife, 
helping me out; “he has been on several quite long shopping 
expeditions with me in New York.” 


12 


178 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

Sorry you can’t come with us, Judge,” said Jim, ‘‘ but what 
will be our loss will be the ladies’ gain.” 

So it was arranged, and the ladies and I started after lunch 
to walk at my suggestion to Marshal Fields’. I was armed with 
my gun and my kodak, both ready for immediate use. I gave a 
wink to two private detectives I had arranged should shadow and 
protect Mrs. Clark and my wife, unbeknown to them, whilst they 
were in Chicago. 

Before we reached State Street I perceived Sarpi (as I was 
sure that the dark man with the scar was none other than the 
noted anarchist) and the same two men who had been in his opera 
box the night before, a little behind us on the other side of the 
street. I am gifted with remarkably keen sight and considerable 
power of recognition, though there was no danger of mistaking 
the tall, powerful figure of the Italian. He and his pals were 
dressed, or rather overdressed, in the height of fashion, and, being 
all fine-looking men, attracted considerable attention. They must 
have plenty of cash anyhow, thought I ; perhaps they were con- 
cerned in one or two of the successful burglaries that have recently 
taken place in this city. I entered Marshal Fields’ store with the 
ladies, and, having seen them at length thoroughly absorbed in 
woman’s most agreeable employment, I made an excuse and said 
I would have a smoke outside and call for them again. I left the 
building by the side entrance. The three Italians were standing 
in a bunch on the sidewalk with their backs to me as I came out ; 
the man I felt sure was Sarpi was leaning against one of the 
large plate-glass windows of the store, in which were displayed 
several elegant newly imported Parisian spring costumes. Before 
I left the building I had rapidly disguised myself by putting on 
my face a big red bushy beard, whiskers, and mustache, with 
which I had provided myself. I am clean shaved like most Ameri- 
cans, and hirsute appendages disguise my homely identity most 
completely. I happen to be ambidexter, which I have found to 
be very handy at times. On this occasion I held my kodak ready 
in my left hand ; with my right I clutched the loaded revolver in 
the side pocket of my overcoat. I coolly walked up to the win- 
dow, glanced at the costumes, and before they were aware of my 
intentions, took snap shots of the three Italians. 

“ Corpo di Baccho/' said my big friend, “ what do you mean 
by that, sir?” scowling fiercely at me. 

Oh, nothing at all,” I replied; “ I am employed by a fashion- 


179 


The Kodaking Of The Anarchist. 

able modiste to obtain pictures of model dresses, and I couldn’t 
resist the opportunity of adding to my collection the likenesses of 
three such handsome gentlemen as you, Senor Sarpi, and your 
two friends.” 

The big Italian started as if shot, and then spat out an awful 
oath and glared at me fiercely in rage and astonishment. He, 
however, quickly spotted my two men standing, prepared for 
emergencies, about ten yards away, so giving vent to a broadside 
of terrific blasphemies, he and his comrades, evidently fearing 
arrest, which a street scrimmage would surely have entailed 
turned on their heels and walked away, and were soon lost to view 
amid the thronging crowd on State Street. 

I lost no time in going to a photographer, in order to get the 
pictures developed, leaving word that I would call next day for 
them. I returned to Marshal Fields’, where I found the ladies still 
deeply engaged. I loafed round the store till my fair companions 
were through, and then, after receiving several nice encomiums 
from them relative to my unbounded patience, escorted them back 
to the hotel, followed at a distance by our police shadows. As 
soon as I was at liberty I betook myself to the depot of the Rock 
Island Road, and on inquiry found that persons answering to my 
description of the three Italians had visited the Clark train, and, 
having made a detailed inspection, had taken notes about some 
points that apparently interested them. I also discovered that 
they had boarded a west-bound train half an hour previous to my 
arrival at the depot. This last intelligence made me breathe more 
freely; in fact, I plumed myself on having accomplished two 
good pieces of work : first, in having ascertained beyond any doubt 
that the big Italian was no other than Sarpi, the anarchist, and 
secondly, on having driven him and his two confederates from the 
Windy City. 

When I had returned to the hotel I found the whole crowd 
at tea. I asked Mrs. Clark if she had seen her admirer, the dark 
man with the scar, during the day. She replied she had not. 

I said : “ I don’t think he will bother you any more ; he has 
left the city.” 

“How did you find it out. Judge?” exclaimed simultaneously 
all my companions. 

“ Oh, quite incidentally,” I replied^ and changed the conversa- 
tion. 


i8o A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 


March 2. 

I took the developed photographs of the three Italians to the 
chief of police, and to my satisfaction, found that the picture I 
had taken of Sarpi coincided exactly with one that had only just 
been received of the notorious anarchist by the police from Italy. 
The chief congratulated me on my smartness, but since the regular 
police are not remarkable for this quality, I did not feel the 
compliment very highly. Afterwards I went and had a steam 
bath. We dined with the mayor of the city, at a semi-official 
banquet, and went to a ball afterwards. Both Jim and I were 
very glad to get to roost. 

March 3. 

Three days at Chicago reach my limit. Chicago is a God- 
forsaken place in a physical, a moral, and a spiritual sense. 
Those icy blasts from Lake Michigan cut you in two in winter, 
and those sickening hot waves stifle you in summer. I have had 
to go there at various times and seasons on business, but was al- 
ways glad to slide out again as fast as I could. I do not say it in 
any pharisaical spirit, but if I were compelled to reside in Chi- 
cago, I should always live in fear lest the damnable wickedness of 
the inhabitants might draw down fire from heaven and that I 
should be burnt up along with the rest. But this harsh sentiment 
may perhaps be said to be merely the prejudice of a biassed New 
Yorker. 

We regularly did the city to-day, and as I like doing justice to 
everybody and everything, ’must say that Washington and Lincoln 
Parks are equal, or superior, to anything we can show of the 
same kind in Greater New York. The library and the art museum 
would do credit to any city. The Lake Park in front of Michigan 
Avenue, which was for the most part artificially constructed 
nearly twenty years ago, is an enormous improvement to the city. 
Of course, during our peregrinations we used electric autos and 
not the street cars, which latter are vile and slow. Talking of 
street cars : I consider that Detroit, Mich., leads the way in this 
respect. Chicago might well like a hint or two from this last 
named beautfully clean and well-arranged place. Oh, the dirt of 
Chicago, it is unspeakable. The toil of cleaning oneself is simply 
Sisyphean ; like a woman’s work, it is never done. You hardly 
dare blow your nose for fear that some great black has stealthily 
settled on your handkerchief and will leave a smudge on your 
face like those one sees sometimes on the countenances of London 


The Kodaking Of The Anarchist. i8i 

lodging-house slaveys (as they call common helps over there). 
It is to the general consumption of soft coal that is due the 
noisome atmospheric impurity of the Windy City. 

Why cannot there be obtained in Chicago, as in New York, an 
^ ordinance strictly enforcing the exclusive use of anthracite? I 
conclude that the reason why this is not so is that certain mem- 
bers of the municipality are interested, directly or indirectly, in 
the soft coal business, and what reform can be expected in a city 
that IS practically run by Irish keepers of saloons, brothels, and 
gambling hells. There are plenty of successors to Bath-house 
John still flourishing in the precincts. The cut-throat politicians 
of Clark Street wield more power than all the millionaires of 
Prairie Avenue lumped together. 

But the winter aerial filth of Chicago is more tolerable than 
the microbe-breeding dust, which, in spite of street waterings, 
choke in summer the weary wayfarer. The fact is, that leaving 
the principal streets and avenues out of the question, Chicago is 
a very uncleanly, unhealthy city, and this said dust which, if not 
so terrific in the awfulness of its black sweeping clouds as the 
dreaded simoom of the Sahara, is vastly more fatal to human life. 
The latter at rare intervals may overwhelm with merciful celerity 
in its tempestuous course the infrequent desert caravan, or the 
solitary traveler; whereas the former, carrying along with it the 
trillion germs of countless putrefying substances lying in the 
dirty side streets, sows broadcast the seeds of consumption, of 
diphtheria, and of enteric diseases in thousands of homes. 

In the evening we went to a big dinner party. There were a 
lot of overdressed women there, and the champagne was anything 
but first-class. I sat next to the much bejewelled wife of a great 
pork-packer; she confided to me that she thought Chicago was 
quite too awfully nice for anything. I pitied her. Perhaps some 
of the well-seasoned inhabitants of hell make the same remark 
about Pandemonium. There’s certainly no accounting for tastes, 
but we humans can get accustomed to anything — it’s a question, 
after all, of bringing up and of environments. 


i 82 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XX. 

A MOMENTOUS DECISION. 

March 4. 

It had been arranged some time previously that we should 
travel by the Rio Grande Road, in order to give Dora an oppor- 
tunity of seeing the Grand Canon and the Rockies. I for one 
was not sorry when we boarded our train, and had slid out 
of Chicago to-day. Somehow I could not rid myself of the 
spectre of apprehension that seemed to haunt my soul. I could 
not get the thoughts concerning those three Italian anarchists out 
of my mind. On inquiry I found that they (the Italians) had 
been questioning the conductors about the route of the train and 
the date of our departure, and I wasn’t at all sure that they did 
not obtain still more important information — an artfully applied 
tip will do a great deal. I disclosed my fears to the old man and 
tried to get his consent to our line of route being changed to the 
Union Pacific, so as to baffle any plans the rascals may have con- 
cocted, but I only got laughed at for my pains. 

As we assembled in the “ Diner ” for lunch Jim cried out : 
“ Cheer up. Judge; buck up, old man, you look as melancholy as 
a boiled owl or a sick monkey; brace up and take a glass of 
champagne.” 

I followed his advice, not wishing to act like a wet blanket 
on as jolly a little crowd that ever traveled together, and applied 
myself steadily to the Pommery. We all of us spent the after- 
noon in the “ Smoker,” reading, smoking, playing at poker, or 
shooting darts at targets with Quackenbush air-rifles, an excellent 
mode of passing the time, by the way. 

At Jim’s request a hardened aluminum plate was brought in 
on which he pasted a paper target with mucilage, and then we men 
practised at it with our six-shooters. Though the target was a 
large one, Dawlish managed to miss it altogether twice. How- 
ever, his shooting improved, and one could see that he was pos- 
sessed of a good eye, as well as of steady nerves. He is a man 


A Momentous Decision. 


183 

I took a great fancy to at sight ; he is a big, frank, bluff English- 
man. I am sure that he is as brave as a lion. A glance at his 
clear, steadfast blue eyes tells as much, and I am a pretty good 
reader of character. The exercise of my profession made me that. 
Dawlish is a man who would stand by a friend to the death. Jim 
demonstrated what a remarkable shot he is. He had a clean 
target placed on the plate and fired twelve shots in rapid succes- 
sion, the full length of the smoker, and only two balls went outside 
the two-inch bull’s-eye. My wife took possession of the target 
when it was done with to keep as a memento ; it was simply minus 
its center, which had been literally shot out. 

I began to take a more cheerful view of things when I had 
got outside an excellent dinner, and the best part of a magnum of 
chateau Leoville of 1893. What a perfectly wonderful train 
this is, not a blessed luxury or convenience omitted. My wife is 
in raptures about it. How fond she is of Dora, as I love to call 
Mrs. Clark privately to myself sometimes, though, for the matter 
of fact, I don’t think either she or her husband would tear my 
eyes out if I called her by her first name to her face. I can’t help 
feeling that the future destinies of Bella and I are somehow 
bound up with that of the Clarks. It is strange how things come 
about in this queer world. 


March 5. 

We arrived in the afternoon of this day at Colorado Springs; 
it had been decided before we left Chicago that we should stay a 
full day here. So the train was side-tracked and we all betook 
ourselves to the best hotel of the place, which we found crowded 
with nice people. Our arrival created quite a sensation, as the 
Clarks were for the moment three of the most talked-about 
people in the whole country. Bella and I found several New York 
friends, who envied us our trip in the famous aluminum train. 
All the people in the hotel went clean crazy over Dora. 


March 6. 

It is perhaps needless to say that we did Pike’s Peak to-day. I 
had done it before, so there was nothing new to me. We ascended 
to the summit and had a grand view of the Rockies, and returned 
with sharpened appetites. We dined in the restaurant at the 
ladies’ request, and so had to content ourselves with the hotel 
food, which I don’t mean to say was actually bad, but the old 


1 84 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

man’s chef spoils one for ordinary fare. Still I believe it was a 
pure piece of vanity on the part of Bella and of Mrs. Clark insist- 
ing on our patronizing the restaurant. If women are possessed 
of really smart clothes they will put up with any old thing in the 
shape of food rather than lose a chance of showing off their finery. 
I verily believe our ladies would eat crow or mule meat in the 
public room at Delmonico’s, Martin’s, or Sherry’s rather than sup 
unnoticed with Lucullus in a private room. 


March 7. 

If I were to live to the reputed age of Methuselah, the startling 
events of this day would make it stand out clear in my memory as 
the least forgettable one of my existence. We had determined to 
make a late breakfast en route. When we boarded the train we 
found the cars most beautifully decorated with flowers, and soon 
we men were all heartily shaking dear old man Clark’s hand and 
the ladies were as enthusiastically kissing his cheeks (I know my 
wife had been egged on by Dora to do her share of the perform- 
ance) in honor of his having attained his sixty-third birthday. 
Of course, the principal festivities were left till the evening, but 
that didn’t prevent a huge three-handed solid gold flagon con- 
taining a most artfully concocted champagne cup, or punch, as it is 
called here, the artistic work of the English butler (may his 
shadow never grow less, which it is not likely to do anyhow till 
he dies), being passed around at breakfast. The noble old fellow 
seemed quite affected at the whole-souled fashion with which we 
drank his health, and he had to get on his legs to return thanks, 
which he did in a few unstudied words, for to tell the truth he is 
no great orator, but I can recall his pleasant, rugged countenance 
illumined by the bright sun’s rays as he said, with quavering 
voice: “My dear friends, I have on this my birthday (which 
reminds me I am creeping on) much indeed to be thankful for 
to Almighty God, but especially that these two loved and loving 
ones” (pointing to Jim and Dora) “have been spared to cheer 
and comfort my old age. What would all my wealth be to me 
without them? ” If any man ever spoke the absolute truth from 
the bottom of his heart, old man Clark did, when he uttered 
these simple words, and we all knew it, too. 

Well, we spent the day principally in the observation car and 
the smoking-room. The two big locomotives didn’t make much 
ado in dragging our light train of aluminum cars up the long, steep 


A Momentous Decision. 185 

gradient that terminates just the other side of Leadville. It was 
all new to Dora, and she was much impressed by the awesome- 
ness of the Grand Canon and by the beauty of the Harvard and 
Yale Mountain Peaks. We amused ourselves much in the same 
way as we had done on our first day out from Chicago, and in 
addition Captain Dawlish recited some of Rudyard Kipling’s bal- 
lads, and showed that he (Dawlish) is quite an elocutionist. I 
wish some scientist would explain to me the reason why we 
Americans have our voices generally pitched a deal higher than 
those of the English people. Is it the effect of the climate, or what ? 
I wish it were otherwise. It was most restful to sit and listen to 
the mellow voice of this English gentleman, and to mark the 
sharp contrast between the soft, low, well-modulated tones of Mrs. 
Clark and the comparatively shrill, metallic ones of my dear 
wife ; the contrast was not at all in favor of the latter. I think I 
shall read her this page of my diary some day. She is too good 
a sportswoman to get rattled over it. 

At last we reached the Divide and were booming down the 
Pacific Slope of the Rockies at a fast gait. 

An hour before it was time to dress for dinner, the old man 
asked me to accompany him to his private sitting-room, as he 
had a business proposition to discuss with me. When we were 
seated he broke the ice by saying : “ I want to open a little 
scheme to you, Judge, that has given me a good deal of thought, 
and, as this is my birthday, I am made aware that I must be set- 
ting my house in order. The fact is, I am not satisfied with my 
business manager, and should have got rid of him some time since, 
if I had had any one to put in his place. The duties are not 
arduous, and principally consist in protecting my patents and in 
collecting my royalties, which, as you know, amount to over $15,- 
000,000 a year, and then there is the $70,000,000 I have in the 
big Pittsburg aluminum works, which give me a controlling inter- 
est in that concern, and nets me at least $10,000,000 annually, 
besides nearly $80,000,000 I have invested in stocks and bonds. 
All this takes a cool, clear head to look after. I can’t expect 
my son to Jim to attend to it, but I want, in the event of my death, 
to leave my affairs in reliable hands. If Dawlish had been a law- 
yer I should have offered him the post, but though he is invalu- 
able to me as my private secretary and is a most hardworking, 
trustworthy fellow, still his ignorance of law is an insuperable bar. 
So, now, without any further palaver, I offer you the berth. I 


i86 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

know you will be sacrificing the ambition of your life if you ac- 
cept, I mean the certainty of a judgeship of the Supreme Court 
at Washington, and your charming wife would be torn away from 
her dear New York, but I wish you nevertheless to consider it. 
I will give you a million down on the nail and a salary of $100,000 
a year ; if that is not enough, say so, and I will make a higher bid. 
You needn’t give me an answer unless you like until we arrive at 
Trisco, but I trust we shall come to terms; you cannot tell the 
pleasure it would give me, and as for Dora, she would be wild 
with delight. I guess this is the longest speech I ever made, so. 
Judge, I hope you feel flattered.” 

“ You mean I feel flattened^ sir,” I replied. “ The magnifi- 
cence of your offer takes my breath away, to say nothing else, but 
I am a man of business like yourself, and I will not take long to 
decide this point. I will let you know probably this evening. I 
want a short time for reflection, and also for consultation with my 
wife, so, offering you, sir, my profoundest thanks,, I will, with your 
leave, retire to my apartments.” 

I am possessed of a retentive memory, but if I was not I don’t 
think I could have forgotten a word of the above conversation. It 
was by far the most important one I had ever had. When alone I 
rapidly reviewed the pros and cons of Mr. Clark’s proposal. I 
was generally regarded as a wealthy man, and my practice indeed, 
which is a very lucrative one, brings me in a clear annual income 
of $50,000, but then I have to work very hard for it, and I feel I 
cannot go on toiling in this fashion much longer, that is what had 
decided me to accept a judgeship of the Supreme Court at Wash- 
ington, which I know would be offered to me when the next seat 
on the bench became vacant, as leaving out my personal merits 
I have a very strong pull with the party in power. I know my 
wife was looking forward to living in the Capital and mixing 
with the best set. Now how was this to be done? Instead of 
being possessed of a million, as was supposed, I am only worth 
about a third of that sum, if that, as I hold a lot of shaky securi- 
ties and quite a number of speculative mining shares. Though 
for some years my professional income has been large, it has not 
always been so, and Bella and I, though ostensibly living in a quiet 
way, have both of us cultivated expensive tastes, and, moreover, I 
have been unlucky in several large stock exchange deals. How 
often it happens that the knowing brigade get left, while the 
simple juggins blunder on to wealth. My life is only insured 


A Momentous Decision. 187 

for a small sum, but as a lawyer should do, I am often (though a 
particularly sound, healthy man) pondering as to my latter end, 
and the result of my figurings out is that my dearest Bella at my 
decease would not be as well off as I would wish her to be, and 
even during my lifetime we should not in Washington roll in 
riches on an income of $25,000 a year, for that is the most we 
should have, including my official income. Now I will, in this my 
diary, though it may never be perused by any eye but my own, put 
on record my long-established opinion concerning the remunera- 
tion of public servants and other matters in this almighty great 
country. Generally speaking, this remuneration is miserably in- 
adequate in the case certainly of the more important civil func- 
tionaries. The salary of the President of the greatest and wealth- 
iest country on the face of the globe is obviously insufficient. It is 
a wonder that so many Presidents have been honest men, and it 
is with difficulty one can blame those who obviously have failed 
to resist the alluring temptations that have been placed within 
their reach. A President should have at least $100,000 a year, so 
as to give him a chance of honestly laying by during his term of 
office a provision for his family. He should also have a retiring 
pension of, say, $25,000 and a senatorship for life. This would 
enable him to live at Washington in a manner befitting his dignity, 
and at the same time give fhe State the benefit of his great 
experience. At present the country all the time is being threat- 
ened with the possibility of witnessing the disgraceful spectacle of 
an ex-President living in necessitous circumstances. My country 
leads the world in most things, and among others in the cynical 
and cold-hearted indifference with which she treats her public 
men. Then again, look at our ambassadors. Isn’t it disgraceful 
that their salaries in some notorious cases little more than cover 
their house rents ? Why in the name of fortune should the Ameri- 
can Ambassador at the Court of St. James be paid only one-half 
what is considered necessary for the decent subsistence in the 
society he is supposed to move of the British Ambassador at 
Washington? It will be answered that Republican simplicity 
requires it. Bosh, I reply. Ho American millionaires in London 
and Paris display any signs of Republican simplicity, and surely 
the splendid array of Fifth Avenue brown-stone houses and of 
Newport cottages give the lie to such an answer. Supposing our 
Ambassador in London were to reside in a boarding-house or 
second-class hotel, which the leanness of his salary would justify 


1 88 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

him in doing, does any one suppose that his plea of Republican 
simplicity would shield him from the contempt and abuse of his 
fellow-countrymen, and yet the underpaid official would only be 
administering a well-merited rebuke to the parsimony of his 
country, and while on the subject of ambassadors: the United 
States should have a proper foreign office, and the scandal should 
be abolished of seeing a man who was just getting accustomed to 
his post as national envoy to some great foreign power suddenly 
relegated to private life at the caprice of the wire-pullers of an 
incoming President. Again, referring to my own profession : 
why should a Judge of the Supreme Court at Washington only 
receive two-fifths of the salary of his British ermined, bewigged, 
but not more capable brother? But the fact is, that the public 
service in my country is starved, in order that there may be more 
for politicians to steal. Again, why should our barbarous spoils 
system be allowed to exist ? In monarchical England no one except 
the Cabinet Ministers change office. Here in like case there is a 
rush of hungry office-seekers. In England men are chosen for 
their worth and aptitude, almost irrespective of party, to fill 
positions of trust, both at home and abroad. Here, as a matter 
of course, only those who are active partisans of the gang in power 
can hope to receive a share of public patronage. The conse- 
quence is that the country is not always served by the best and 
ablest men who too often are excluded through the existence 
of a system of the grossest nepotism and partiality, and is also 
terribly the loser by such exclusion. We may rail against mon- 
archies and blow about the sovereignty of the American people as 
much as we choose, but the educated Americans all know that 
this great country of ours is being run by about a score of men 
who practically hold in their hands the wealth of the nation, and 
are using the machinery of government for the purpose of filling 
their own pockets. Some of our plutocrats, who are frightened 
bv their own excess of wealth, endeavor to throw dust in the eyes 
of the people by dotting the country with public libraries and 
endowing universities. Man cannot live by books alone, and over- 
education is often a curse, not a blessing. There will come a time 
when this great nation will wake up to the consciousness that it 
has been hoodwinked and robbed on a stupendous scale. You 
cannot, as I think Lincoln said, fool all the people all the time, 
but all this sovereign people has been fooled for a pretty consid- 
erable long time, I guess, Nevertheless, even a worm will turn 


A Momentous Decision. 


189 

at last; this, the greatest nation in the world, will some day 
realize that its prodigious export trade is supported and paid for 
by the sovereign people itself, and that the tariff system, instead 
of benefiting American workingmen, makes it more difficult for 
them to live by the appreciation of the price of everything. Is it 
to be supposed that these trust corporations are actuated by 
philanthropic considerations? They know that in Europe they 
have to meet tremendous competition, so great that the foreign 
export trade of home manufacturers is almost in many cases profit- 
less. It is a gigantic bluff, but aided by the high tariff, these 
same trust corporations recoup themselves by making their huge 
profits out of the American people. A partial reduction of the 
Tariff, together with the introduction of a graduated income tax 
(which was most mysteriously on the luciis a non lucendo prin- 
ciple declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court at Wash- 
ington), would curb the aggressiveness of the trusts, and would 
prove the salvation of the State. 

I, Uriah Slocum, believe theoretically in a Republican form of 
government. But when I have an object lesson before my eyes 
of the same form of government on the most magnificent scale the 
world has ever seen, producing an unholy progeny of harpy 
trusts, Satanic Tammany Halls, tyranny of wealth, greedy cor- 
ruption, and political bad faith, then I not only begin to lose con- 
fidence in Republican institutions, but to tremble for the future 
destiny of my country. 

After this long digression, I return, as the French say, to 
my muttons. I had now to review my position in the event of 
my closing with the old man’s noble offer. I should, in the first 
place, lose my judgeship, and Bella would be parted from the 
fascinations of New York and Washington. But (and this is a 
very big BUT, in capital letters) my income would be about 
trebled, including the interest on the $1,000,000. I should have 
just enough work to prevent my rusting away. Bella would be 
splendidly provided for, and we should live in daily communion 
with our best and truest friends. In a word, we could not fail to 
be happy. In thus balancing the pros and cons of Mr. Clark’s 
offer, I unhesitatingly decided to accept it, and only awaited my 
wife’s assent, and I rather anticipated a smart little battle here, 
knowing how wedded Bella is to that hollow humbug called 
“ society.” At this moment I heard the rustling of skirts, and 
the door opened and my wife appeared, and, running up to mej 


igo A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

threw her arms round my neck, and cried : “ Oh, please, Uriah 
dear, do accept.” 

“ Accept what, my love ? ” I replied, pretending not to under- 
stand, though I could pretty well guess her meaning. 

Then she poured into my ear the story of how Dora had been 
working on her feelings, and urging on her to help to try and 
persuade me to fall in with the old man’s view. I was immensely 
relieved to know that my wife was at one with me on the subject. 

“ But, Bella dear,” I said, “have you counted the cost? You 
will see (if I take hold of this job) mighty little of Eastern 
society any more. Will the San Francisco four hundred be an 
adequate substitute for that of New York or Washington?” 

“ Why, certainly,” replied my wife, laughing, “ considering how 
little we shall be at barbarous ’Frisco, you goosy; do you suppose 
that Jim and Dora are going to waste their lives on those Cali- 
fornian sand-hills? No, my dear, the ecstatic pleasures of the 
London season will await us each year; I guess that’s a pretty 
good substitute, with Goodwood, Cowes, and Scotland thrown in 
afterwards, for even New York and Washington.” 

“ But,” retorted I rather feebly, “ how will this programme 
suit the old man; he is wedded to California?” 

“ I don’t exactly know, nor do I care ; what I do know is that 
wherever Dora leads, there the old man follows, you bet,” said 
Bella. “ But you haven’t told me your decision.” 

“ I am one with you, darling,” I replied. “ The court is unan- 
imous.” 

“ Hurrah ! Hurrah ! ” shouted Bella. “ But, dear, how about 
your judgeship? ” 

“ Oh, that will have to slide. I shall have to exercise my 
judicial talents in other directions,” said I, laughing. “ For in- 
stance, in selecting the Emperor’s wines and cigars, and in help- 
ing you to choose your frocks.” 

“ I must rush away to tell Dora,” cried my wife, kissing me in 
the most delightfully reckless manner. 

“ And I will hie me to the Emperor on the same mission,” 
replied I. 

A happier crowd never sat down to a meal than ours did that 
evening in the “ Diner.” There was an air of generally-prevalent 
exuberance of spirits. 

The old man had to again respond to his health, and he 
replied by proposing that of my wife and myself, mentioning the 


A Momentous Decision. 


191 


great joy that filled his heart at my acceptance of the post of 
grand Vizier. Dawlish, like the good fellow as he is, con- 
gratulated me in the most generous manner. At the Emperor’s 
special request, Dora had arrayed herself in the same dainty dress 
she had worn at the opera, together with her splendid outfit of 
diamonds. My wife was attired in a lovely princess gown in 
buttercup satin, with brown velvet train that suited her brunette 
style of beauty exquisitely. 

After a superb dinner, in the production of which the chef had 
excelled himself, we men spent a certain time in the drawing- 
room car with the ladies, and then said good night to them, put 
on our lounge suits, and reassembled in the smoker for the serious 
study of the noble game of whist. And before attempting to 
chronicle the exciting scenes that follow, I will take a new pen, 
light another pipe, and commence a fresh page. I adopt a good 
plan in writing up a private diary. The pages are plain, with no 
days or months marked. I insert dates where I need them. Thus 
a day’s entry may cover twenty pages, or only half a one. An 
ordinary diary book would be useless for my purpose. 


192 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

A TRAIN HOLD-UP. 

Before commencing our partie, which gave every promise of 
being a prolonged one, since this was a special occasion, and all 
we four men happened to be not only devotees, but pretty good 
exponents (indeed, Dawlish may well be classed as a master) of 
the prince of card games, we spent a short time in the observa- 
tion car, gazing on the weird scene that presented itself to our 
eyes. 

A transient blizzard on a very limited scale had lately pow- 
dered the sage brush of this desolate region with a light covering 
of snow, the particles of which glittered like diamonds in the 
blaze of electric light shed from the cars of our swiftly-moving 
train. 

The starry constellations shone with celestial glory in the 
unfathomable depths of the steel blue sky, all the brighter by 
reason of the marvellous clearness of the Utah atmosphere. The 
Northern light, a phenomenon but rarely seen in these latitudes, 
illuminated the horizon like the glare of a far-off forest fire. 
The distant buttes loomed gaunt and grim in their serrated out- 
line like the ruined castellated strongholds of some forgotten 
race of primeval giants. The whole panorama being vividly sug- 
gestive of a dead and lifeless world. 

In spite of the boisterous gaiety of my three comrades (and 
mirth is generally contagious) an overmastering sense of impend- 
ing unavoidable peril seemed again to oppress my mind. Being 
usually a most matter-of-fact, unimpressionable individual, I 
could not account for this. I am perfectly healthy, and, unlike so 
many of my countrymen, am as absolute a stranger to dyspepsia 
as a red Indian. Nor do I believe in second sight, nor in spirit 
warnings. So I tried to shake off this morbid horror, and make a 
determined effort to appear cheerful by mildly bantering Jim 
Clark on the Eastern magnificence of his attire^^ a gorgeous outfit 


193 


A Train Hold-Up. 

in dark blue velvet, trimmed with gold bullion lace, he had had 
built in Bond Street, London. He defended himself from the 
charge of Sybaritism on the plea that he had to decorate a bit 
in self-defense, as a counterbalance to the splendor of his wife’s 
apparel. 

The monotony of the landscape soon beginning to pall upon 
us, we sought refuge in the hospitable smoking-room. 

Having cut for partners, the Emperor and I prepared to do 
battle with the other two. Jim won the choice of seats, and pro- 
ceeded to occupy a chair at the whist table with his back to the 
observation car, and therefore facing the corridor entrance,, 
previously referred to. This is an important point to bear in 
mind with a view to subsequent happenings. The Emperor and I 
posted ourselves on Jim’s left and right hand, respectively, while 
Dawlish ensconced himself in a cosy, well-cushioned armchair, 
fashioned of hardened aluminum. He is a very tall, long-backed 
man, who had served a sufficient period in Indian Cantonments to 
have thoroughly acquired the art of knowing how to make him- 
self comfortable. Behind the Captain’s chair stood a species 
of buffet, on which rested a large cellaret containing a most choice 
assortment of liquors to suit every taste, together with several 
boxes of cigars of famous brands, and by each man’s right hand 
was a miniature table on which was placed his glass and loaded 
revolver. 

It is for my own future satisfaction that I am thus careful in 
noting these trivial details, though I shall ever preserve a mental 
negative of the whole scene in the photographic department of 
my brain, as clear as it presents itself now to me in the very 
act of describing it immediately after the event. 

Jim and his father were playing with each other for what 
seemed to me pretty lofty stakes, namely, $ioo points, and $i,ooo 
on the rubber, the Captain and I being content to risk compara- 
tively small sums. But then, what did it matter to two such 
money magnates as the Clarks what they gambled for, and 
besides, in this case none of the cash went out of the family. 

Well, my partner and I had scored the first rubber, and had 
marked up a single against a double towards the second, when 
the train suddenly pulled up. We took no notice of this, but fin- 
ished the game, our adversaries proving victorious, thereby win- 
ning the rubber by six points. 

A very short interregnum of a few minutes ensued, which was 

la 


194 ^ 2oth Century Cinderella. 

devoted to the replenishing of our glasses and the lighting of fresh 
cigars. I remember remarking to the Emperor that we were 
stopping quite a long time. 

“ Oh, probably it is a lubberly freight train that blocks the 
way; they take their time to side-track in these parts, I can tell 
you. A tortoise is a smart lively bird compared to some of the 
Rio Grande engineers,” replied the old man with unconcern. 

Satisfied with this answer, I shuffled and cut the cards, which 
Jim dealt, and turned up the knave of clubs. My hand was a 
rotten one ; there wasn't a certain trick in it ; it was one of those 
hands that would have been impossible even for a Cavendish 
to have done any good with, and all that was in one’s power was 
to do as little harm as possible. Unless my partner was strong, all 
was lost. The Emperor led a small diamond ; Jim took the trick 
with the ten, the best card of that suit that I could produce being 
the nine. Jim then showed his strength in trumps by playing 
the king of that suit, following with the ace, his partner’s queen 
falling. He then led the knave; as he played this card I looked 
up and saw the expression of his face suddenly change, as if by 
magic, from an inscrutable poker impassiveness to one of fierce 
implacable resolution. 

In an instant, just as I heard the words, “ Gentlemen, hold u — ” 
(the sentence was never finished), uttered in sharp metallic 
tones by a strange voice, with a Spanish accent, Jim let fall his 
cards, and with lightning rapidity, snatched his gun from the 
table beside him, and fired three shots in quick succession, appar- 
ently right at the top of his partner’s head. Simultaneous with 
these explosions came the jarring sound of metal striking metal 
in my immediate vicinity, the discharge of a pistol at the corridor 
end of the car, a horrible gurgling groan, and the resounding 
thuds of two heavy bodies striking the floor. The whole of this 
stunningly startling piece of business did not take more than barely 
four seconds to enact, and I should judge for about an equal space 
of time the furious din was followed by silence unbroken, save by 
the involuntary ejaculations of the three witnesses to the tragical 
episode. I believe I shouted, “ Good Lord.” I can swear that 
my partner cried, “ Great Scot,” while there was not a shadow 
of doubt but that the Captain gave tongue to that brief verbal com- 
ment that is so valued by Englishmen of all classes as a means 
of affording a harmless vent to bottled-up feelings, “ I’m 
damned 1 ” If he had said, “ I’m shot,” he would have been 


195 


A Train Hold-Up. 

nearer the mark, for certainly he had just passed through a most 
terribly trying ordeal, for even the strongest nerves. It is no 
joke for a man in the midst of a peaceful game of whist to have 
his vis-a-vis suddenly pick up a pistol and fire straight at his 
head, so straight that he can feel the bullets almost passing 
through his hair, at the same time to experience a concussion in his 
back and to be not quite sure that his spine is not broken in two. 
So, instead of being blamed for the strength of his language, the 
gallant Captain should be complimented on his grit for being able, 
under the circumstances, to make any vocal commentary at all, 
whether forcible or feeble. 

Recovered from the first shock of surprise, we three interested 
spectators started to our feet with one accord, each with his gun 
in hand pointed towards the entrance of the car, threatening to 
riddle any fresh intruder with streams of balls. In our haste 
my partner and I recklessly overturned the little tables on which 
were severally placed our drinks, scattering broken glass and 
priceless brandy over the costly Axminster carpet, while the Cap- 
tain, in his eagerness to avenge himself for his fright by getting 
into action as speedily as possible, dashed the shield that had 
preserved his life, in plain words his trusty armchair, backward, as 
he sprang into an erect attitude. In the sternest of life’s realities 
there is often a spice of humor, and so amid all the useless confu- 
sion of tardy haste on our part, it was grimly comical to observe 
the man who had saved us from disgrace, if not from death, coolly 
sitting in his chair, replacing with no indecent hurry the exploded 
shells in his six-shooter by new ones, all the time unconcernedly 
smoking the big Regalia he had lighted at the commencement of 
our prematurely terminated rubber. Having completed the neces- 
sary operation, he kissed the death-dealing weapon almost rever- 
entially, finished his Scotch and soda, then strode with the com- 
manding mien of a son of Atreus to where we were examining the 
ghastly disfigured corpses of two men, who little more than a 
minute previously had been full of life and energy. “ Good 
work, indeed, my dear boy,” cried the old man fervently, grasp- 
ing the hand of his beloved and now intensely-admired son. 
“ They are dead as Julius Csesar.” And so they indeed were. 

It would seem that before the leader (apparently a Mexican 
desperado) had had time to utter the whole of his surrender 
summons, or to level his pistol, a cordite-propelled expanding 
bullet from Jim’s 32-caliber Colt revolver pierced his brain, his 


196 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

follower must have discharged his gun as he stumbled over his 
comrade^s corpse, and as he did so death came to him on swift 
but leaden wings, one ball gashing his jugular, and another 
smashing through his teeth and tearing a wide hole in the back 
of his skill ; one might almost say perhaps that the very mortal 
spasm that clenched his fist pulled the trigger of his weapon. 
Never did annihilation come with such awful suddenness to reck- 
less bravos who had little expected such a terrible reception from 
a quartet of quiet card-playing society gentlemen. The mask had 
fallen from the face of the second bandit, and, strange to say, I 
was not surprised to recognize the features of one of the Italians 
I had kodaked outside Marshal Field’s store. I wished that it 
had been Sarpi himself. Jim just glanced, as I thought, rather 
contemptuously at these mutilated proofs of the fearful accuracy 
of his aim, muttering as he did so almost musingly: “Yes, ex- 
panding bullets are the sure thing.” Then turning to us as if 
impatient at wasting a moment of time, he cried: “Gentlemen, 
follow me ; our work is only just begun.” He assumed the leader- 
ship, as a matter of course. It was simply his right, for hadn’t he 
done all the fighting? Hadn’t he just displayed coolness, courage, 
and skill in a most frightfully trying situation that were almost 
supernatural? There is nothing so inspiring as the heroism of a 
hero, and there is nothing so demoralizing as the cowardice of a 
coward. 

Jim Clark could henceforth count on us three men following 
him into the jaws of death, aye, right through the gates of hell, 
too. We found the conductor and the servant gagged and bound. 
They had been sleeping at their post, and had consequently fallen 
easy victims. Just then a woman’s voice rang out clear and true. 
I could make out that it was Dora’s, and we could all hear dis- 
tinctly the words she uttered ; they were only two : “ Jim, help ! ” 

“ O, God, they are murdering our wives,” I shouted. Jim 
turned to his father and said, hurriedly, in a voice husky with 
emotion : “ Release these men. Daddy, and come along with them. 
The others follow me. Put away your guns, you may hurt the 
ladies. O God, that we may be in time.” And he dashed to the 
rescue ; Dawlish, with his massive strength, pushed me aside in his 
eagerness to get there. I followed close behind him. We rushed 
straight into the drawing-room car, and what a sight there met 
our bewildered gaze. 


The Passing Of The Anarchists. 


197 


^ CHAPTER XXII. 

THE PASSING OF THE ANARCHISTS. 

In the center of the room stood Dora Clark, struggling in the 
fell clutches of a huge masked ruffian. He had already annexed 
her tiara and necklace, both of which, with several of her brace- 
lets, lay strewn on the floor, and was, as we entered, busily engaged 
in tearing the clusters of diamonds from the bertha of her white 
satin corsage ; in so doing he had grievously disarranged her dress, 
exposing to view her glorious snow-white bosom. With his left 
hand he gripped the glossy coils of her lustrous hair, savagely 
pulling her head back, in order to facilitate the consummation of 
his nefarious object. But it was no case of tame submission on her 
part, for Dora was battling for her diamonds and (for ought she 
knew to the contrary) for her honor, with the desperate valor of a 
lioness defending her cubs. She had seized the bandit’s right 
wrist and was vainly striving to liberate her heaving breast from 
the desecration of his marauding fingers, at the same time con- 
vulsively pushing her other hand into his face, in order to hinder 
its approach to hers. 

On an adjacent couch a second outlaw was leaning over the 
recumbent figure of my darling Bella, stifling her cries with one 
hand, and with the other stripping off her ornaments. With an 
awful oath Jim hurled himself on his wife’s ravisher, who turned 
to meet him, and the two grappled in mortal fray. Leaving Jim 
to settle his private accounts, I hasted to Bella’s succor. But 
Dawlish was before me; with a vicious half-hook his right fist 
crashed on the robber’s ear, and as the latter, half-dazed, faced to 
meet his aggressor, he received a smashing left-hander from the 
Captain on his chin, while I came up in time to administer an 
ugly punch below the belt ; on such occasions one is not inclined to 
be careful to observe the niceties of fair play or the Marquis of 
Queensberry rules. Completely knocked out, the robber fell prone 
and senseless. 


A 2oth Centiirv Cinderella. 


198 

A wild shriek from Mrs. Clark drew my attention to the duel. 
Though strong and wiry as a mountain lion, Jim had been 
worsted in his encounter with his gigantic opponent, who, to my 
horror, had thrown my friend, and was now kneeling on him with 
a wicked-looking triangular dagger in his uplifted right hand. 
Dora was clinging to the bandit’s arm, but the weapon neverthe- 
less descended apparently on to Jim’s neck. Just at this juncture 
Dawlish, who was endowed with remarkable strength and activity, 
and (as I afterwards learned) had been a champion athlete (in 
his day), springing in, caught the herculean outlaw by the shoul- 
ders, hurling him backwards, and then proceeded to choke him 
into a state of insensibility. As he tumbled down the mask fell 
from the robber’s face, and Dora exclaimed in a terrified voice: 
“ The man with a scar ! ” and fell fainting into her husband’s arms, 
as to my intense relief he arose unharmed. The long, deadly- 
looking stiletto was still quivering in the floor, where the force of 
the blow had stuck it. Dora’s frenzied intervention had provi- 
dentially diverted the murderer’s aim, or Jim would have seen his 
finish, and the Italian anarchist would have had one more crime 
on his dark blood-stained soul to answer for at the tremendous 
tribunal before which he was so soon to appear. 

Reinforcements were at hand, for old man Clark, accompanied 
by the released conductor and servant, now appeared on the scene. 
The Emperor was now as cool as a cucumber. Words were out of 
place. It was supremely a time for doing, not talking, and before 
everything the Emperor is a man of action ; he showed that by 
directing the servants to assist Dawlish in securing the robbers, 
and while Jim was tenderly laying the senseless form of Dora on 
a couch, kissing her passionately the while, and I was endeavoring 
to console my wife, who was sobbing hysterically, he rushed to the 
end section of the car and quickly returned with the two ladies’ 
maids, who had also been bound and gagged, and directed them 
to look after their mistresses. Having resigned our darlings into 
the hands of their attendants, who, in spite of their frightened con- 
dition, showed considerable presence of mind, Jim now reas- 
sumed the command, and rapidly issued his orders, which were 
these: That Dawlish should assist him in clearing the remaining 
cars of the highwaymen, if they had not decamped already, and 
that the old man and I should descend from the train and proceed 
one on each side of it, and at a distance of about ten yards from 
it in the direction of the locomotive, keeping in line as far as possi- 


199 


The Passing Of The Anarchists. 

ble with the central division. The object of this maneuver was to 
kill or capture any of the brigands who might try to escape. The 
conductor and servant were to drag the prisoners into the dining- 
room and there mount guard over them. 

Well, I followed my instructions to the letter, and was soon 
creeping slowly along at the prescribed distance from the cars. 
All was as quiet as the grave ; it was a still frosty night, there was 
a ghostly air about the whole scene. The telegraph posts cast 
long shadows, which, owing to the radiance thrown by the elec- 
trically-lighted cars, looked like solid obstructions. It did me good 
to get out into the fresh, cold air. I said to myself : “ Uriah, my 
boy, you have had some pretty queer experiences in your time, but 
this beats all. What would some of your New York friends think 
of you, Uriah, if they could see you now brigand hunting, gun in 
hand, not knowing but that at any moment a truculent highway- 
man might take a pot shot at you ? ” and I confess this gave me an 
overallish feeling for a moment, but then I thought of the brave 
Jim, our leader,' and how well he had played his part this memor- 
able night, and I resolved to do my duty or die in the attempt, and 
then again, I thought of those two scoundrels pillaging our wives, 
and perhaps, if left to themselves, attempting something worse, and 
the very idea made me think of Macaulay’s splendid lines in his 
ballad of “ Virginia,” where the young Icilius refers in soul-stir- 
ring phrases to that which “ turns the coward’s heart to steel, the 
sluggard’s blood to flame,” and my heart seemed to change to the 
consistency of hardened aluminum (to be strictly up-to-date, 
and I resolved to give and take no quarter, as I cocked my revolver 
and felt to see if I had any loose shells ready in the side pocket 
of my Tuxedo smoking coat. I hadn’t long to wait to have my 
courage and coolness put to a test ; and mind you, it is always 
easier to be brave in a crowd with your trusty comrades around 
you than alone and unassisted, when you have to depend entirely 
on your own resources. 

Just as I was passing the Emperor’s private car, keeping by 
the sound of their footfalls as well as I could abreast with our 
hero and Dawlish, the report of Jim’s pistol, followed immediately 
by the sound of a falling body, broke on my ear. I knew it was 
Jim’s gun, for three reasons : the first was because he used in his 
shells cordite smokeless powder which makes a whip-like crack, 
and secondly, because Jim was sure to be in the lead, and there- 
fore would naturally fire first, and thirdly, because he never missed. 


200 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

There is another of these rascals gone to his account, and a good 
job, too, soliloquized 1. At that moment a man leaped down from 
the next car ahead and sped right across my path. I fired twice, 
with no effect, but a bullet from my third chamber struck its 
mark, and he staggered. I ran towards him and fired again ; this 
brought my man to the ground ; as I came up to him he half 
raised himself, and uttered some inarticulate cry in Italian, prob- 
ably imploring mercy; it may have been so, but he got none, as 
at a range of three yards I ruthlessly shot him through the head; 
as I did so I recognized him as the last of the trio I had kodaked 
While I was blazing away I heard two rapid reports on the other 
side of the train, and I knew that the old man had also got into 
action. Just as I was stooping down to examine my victim’s face 
I was startled by hearing an English view halloa uttered by a 
familiar voice close beside me. I happened to know it was a 
view halloa, as I had on several occasions been out with one of 
the Long Island packs of foxhounds. I raised my head in time 
to see Jim Clark crossing my path, running at a fast gait in a 
direction at right angles to the train, and at the same time I des- 
cried almost in a line with Jim the figure of a man who had evi- 
dently just left the servant’s sleeper; he also was making tracks at 
his best pace. Both runners were heading for the same point on 
the level plain, where my eye detected a group of horses and a 
couple of men. Now, in order to reach his friends and thereby 
to insure his safety, the fleeing outlaw (for, of course, I concluded 
that he was one of the gang) had to traverse (so to speak) the 
hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle, whereas Jim had only to 
follow its next longest side, and as the latter was running four 
feet for the other’s three, it was quite clear, in spite of his start, 
that the unlucky bandit would be cut off. I naturally joined in the 
chase, leaving my mark on level terms with Dawlish, who v/as 
five or six yards behind the leader. Jim, who was a speedy 
sprinter, rapidly closed in on his quarry. The highwayman, real- 
izing that it was a case of now or never, shouted wildly to his pals 
to come with the horses to his assistance, then suddenly halted 
and fired twice at Jim, who was now within twentv-five yards of 
him, and the latter being by this time only a short distance ahead 
of Dawlish, who in his turn was followed by me at an interval of 
six or seven yards. As the man loosed off, Jim pulled up and 
jumped back so suddenly that I feared he was hit, but he some- 
what relieved my feelings by taking a snap shot at his adversary, 


201 


The Passing Of The Anarchists. 

who gave vent to an unearthly yell, dropped his pistol, and seemed 
to make one more desperate effort to get away. I could see Jim 
raise his gun to a level as coolly as if he were practising in a shoot- 
ing gallery, and fire, both he and his human target being just 
within the verge of the bright zone of light cast by the brilliantly- 
illuminated cars. The miserable wretch sprang into the air and 
fell forward on his face, and I knew that he had been shot through 
the heart. 

While this was transpiring, Dawlish and I, in order to create a 
diversion and to prevent the horse keepers coming to the rescue, 
kept pouring a rapid long-range fire on them. When seeing that 
their comrade was grassed, or rather, sage brushed, and not wish- 
ing to meet a similar fate, after firing a wild ineffectual volley at 
us, they mounted and rode away. 

“ I hope you are not hurt, Jim,’^ cried I, anxiously, when 
Dawlish and I had reached the spot where our hero was surveying 
his handiwork and reloading his destructive weapon. 

“ No, thank God/’ replied the ex-cowboy, “ but if I hadn’t 
tried the old Apache dodge of jumping back as that coyote fired ” 
(pointing to the dead man), “ I probably should have been. That 
chap has been a Mexican Vacquero, if I mistake not, and this 
gun of his is a 44-caliber Colt frontier pistol'; that’s what the cow- 
boys always use. I see that you brought down your bird. Judge, 
shake old man,” and our leader shook hands with me and Dawlish. 
We knew well what those hand-grips meant better than a whole 
torrent of words could have told us. 

We then ran back to the locomotive, where we found the 
Emperor (who had slain his man) with the engineer and fireman 
whom he had released from bondage. The engineer informed us 
that he had pulled up in answer to a red lamp that was being 
waved by a man beside the track, and before either he or his mate 
knew what the trouble might be, eight pistols, held by the same 
number of masked ruffians, were pointed straight at their heads, 
and they had no alternative but to hold up their hands. 

The Emperor now made an excellent suggestion to the engine 
men, which was to go at a foot’s pace for the next mile or two, as 
probably the robbers, to guard against the chance of the train not 
stopping at their signal, might well have taken the precaution of 
tearing up a rail or two, in order to throw it off the track, and 
this proved to be literally the case. Jim added a rider by saying 
that he intended to hang the two prisoners before the train made 


202 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

a start. I suppose, strictly speaking, as an interpreter of the law, I 
ought to have mildly protested against what was certainly taking 
it into our hands, but when I thought of the scene in the drawing- 
room I was tongue-tied. As for the others, they would have called 
in Judge Lynch, even if Jim had not. Then we proceeded to the 
service sleeper and released all the domestics. One could hardly 
blame the poor devils for not showing fight. They had no leader 
as we had, and most of them were in bed, and, moreover, would 
infallibly have been massacred to a man if they had offered resist- 
ance. The ladies had retired to the “Bridal ” car, and Jim and I 
found them together in Mrs. Clark’s private boudoir. They had 
heard the firing, and had been terribly anxious respecting our 
safety, and were overjoyed at our return uninjured. Now, I don’t 
believe in a man who boasts that he has never shed a tear. How 
the deuce can a husband who is as fond of his wife as I am of Bella 
remain dry-eyed when she is hanging round your neck, crying 
with joy, kissing you a thousand times, and calling you by every 
endearing epithet. I say again, if a man can remain unaffected in 
such circumstances he is no man at all, but a blooming iceberg. I 
am not ashamed to say I cried like a good ’un, and the inflexible 
Jim, now that all the fighting and danger was over, broke down 
and allowed his tears to mingle unrestrainedly with those of that 
glorious creature, Dora. He is as worthy of her as she is of him. 
I can’t say more, and will not say less. So let it go at that. We 
did not tell our wives the whole story, as we did not wish to 
shock their feelings, and we agreed as long as possible to keep 
from them the piece of wild Western justice that we were about 
to perpetrate, though, of course, it must come out soon, when 
the whole civilized world would be revelling in one of the most 
thrilling incidents of the new century. I will go further, and say 
one of the most extraordinary affairs that has ever taken place. 
We merely said that probably we should not get to bed for some 
time, if at all, that night. So the two ladies "agreed to sleep to- 
gether, as neither in her nervous excited condition felt as if she 
could be left alone. 

The ladies told us hurriedly that they were both on the point 
of retiring after their usual nightly chat about frills and furbelows, 
when the train stopped ; they were not more alarmed than we were,' 
and went on conversing. Just as Dora had touched the bell to 
summon her maid, to her and Bella’s horror, four masked men 


203 


The Passing Of The Anarchists. 

entered the room. The biggest of them, who turned out to be 
Sarpi, gave some directions in Italian, and two of the men passed 
on in the direction of the smoker. The leader then, in broken 
English, ordered the ladies to give up their jewels. Dora gained a 
short time by fumbling at her necklace, as if unable to unfasten 
it ; seeing the bandit’s impatience she at last handed it over to him ; 
at that moment came the sounds of the firing, and the big bandit, 
knowing there was no time to be lost, snatched the tiara from 
Dora’s head, and after a desperate resistance on her part, was 
proceeding to further acts of violence as we entered. My wife had 
put up quite a fight with the other bandit before she was over- 
powered. I tenderly kissed my Bella and bade her good night, and 
Jim did the same to sweet Dora, and then we withdrew and joined 
the old man and Dawlish in the dining car, where we proceeded 
to hold a rough species of drum-head court-martial on the two 
prisoners for form sake, and I, in the capacity of judge, pro- 
nounced the sentence of the court, which was that they should be 
both hung forthwith. Sarpi protested that he was an Italian sub- 
ject, and demanded to be handed over to the representative of his 
country in the States. I replied that the Italian Government 
would, I have no doubt, be infinitely obliged to us for ridding the 
world of such a monster, anarchist, assassin, public robber, and 
universal pest, but apart from that consideration we had come to 
the conclusion that he and his companion in crime had justly for- 
feited their lives on account of this night’s work. The other man 
begged in broken English for mercy, but I told him that he had 
come to the wrong shop for that article. We did not wish to stay 
any longer than was absolutely necessary around this locality. So 
first having given some of the servants orders to clear the cars 
from the stains of slaughter and to convey the bodies of all the 
dead bandits, either inside or outside the cars, to the foot of a 
certain telegraph post, we indicated, on which, zealously assisted 
by the remainder of the staff, we proceeded to hang Sarpi and his 
comrade, and arrange the six dead bodies of the rest of the gang 
on a cairn of stones at the foot of the post. I caused to be nailed 
on the same post a small placard, on which I inscribed a very 
laconic relation of the affair, directed to the sheriff of the county 
in which the tragedy took place, with our four signatures at the 
end of the document, the Emperor’s, Jim’s, Dawlish’s, and mine. 

“ We had better make sure,” said Jim, as we were quitting the 


204 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

gruesome spot. We will tell the ladies we were firing a feu de 
joie” and he deliberately emptied all six chambers of his revolver 
into Sarpi’s suspended body, and I gave his companion a similar 
dose ; this was the signal for a regular fusilade, and if there had 
been the slightest spark of life left in either of the outlaws, it 
must have been speedily extinguished ; it is wonderful how 
straight some people can shoot when there is no danger to them- 
selves around. 

“ Well, boys,” said the old man, looking with great evident sat- 
isfaction at the group of corpses, “ I guess that is pretty artistic. 
I’ll have a fine monument erected on this spot. I judge there will 
not be any more train robbing for a while in these parts. By 
Gosh, Jim, I’m prouder of you than if you were President of this 
great country, best on record, best on record. Now, friends, we 
will board our train and get something to eat; I feel kind of 
empty. How is it with you, Jim?” continued the Emperor, af- 
fectionately linking his arm in that of his son. 

“ I could chew up a raw monkey,” replied Jim. 

I confess I did not feel a desperate hankering after victuals 
and I don’t think Dawlish was particularly ravenous, as I saw him 
(old campaigner as he was) give a little shudder as we left the 
ghastly scene, and it was enough to make a man’s flesh creep to see 
in the glare of the incandescent lamps that ring of dead men 
seated like weary warfarers taking lunch leaning against each other 
and the telegraph post, but the illusion was dispelled by the two 
dead bodies suspended over them in the air. Somehow I could not 
resist the temptation of securing pictorial souvenirs of this shock- 
ingly unique spectacle. So I hasted to my dressing-room, and 
soon returned with my camera and took several of what proved 
on development to be remarkably good negatives, but then the 
poseurs kept so still. While I was taking the photographs I in- 
structed the servants to search the bodies and possess themselves 
of all the papers on the persons of the dead outlaws, and I dare 
say they found a good many other things besides such as watches 
and rings. To the victors belong the spoils, and it was no busi- 
ness of mine, and I didn’t trouble as long as I coraled the docu- 
mentary evidence. I then rejoined my comrades in the smoker. 

I have made a tremendously long rigmarole of this affair, but 
I really do not see how I could have curtailed the narration much 
without depriving it to some extent of its verisimilitude, but as it 


The Passing Of The Anarchists. 205 

is intended solely for my own private perusal, I don’t see it mat- 
ters a row of pins to anybody else. It will be a source of future 
pleasure to me, that is a sure thing. There was not a trace of the 
late terrible doings to be seen in the smoking-room. The pool of 
blood and brains had vanished, or rather the piece of carpet so 
terribly defiled had been removed and a length of drugget stretched 
temporarily in its place. But as long as this car is on its wheels 
the dark crimson blotches, where the smoking gore had soaked 
through the deep pile, will never leave the oaken boards of the 
flooring underneath. 

The footman, whose duty it was to see to the restoration of 
order in the car, had perpetrated (unconsciously, no doubt) a 
grim piece of humor. Everything was exactlv the same as it had 
been before the irruption of the bandits. The whist table was 
there, the chairs, including the Captain’s armchair (as it will 
always be called now), with the bullet splash on the back (a fine 
advertisement for the hardness of the new metal, by the way). 
The little tables, with glasses on them by the side of the chairs, 
the cellaret on the table. Yes, every detail was perfect; there was 
only one point omitted. There were no revolvers. No, these 
were in our pockets, and there certainly would be no occasion to 
take them out again. 

The first thing we all four did was to mix ourselves a long 
drink apiece, and after clinking glasses to drink to each other in an 
eloquent silence that meant so much. The Emperor made the 
first remark when we were seated and had lighted our cigars. 

“ Thank God, gentlemen, we and our dear ones are alive and 
well. We owe it all under Divine Providence to my son there. 
Jim, shake hands, I am indeed proud of you, my son. You have 
shown yourself to-night to be not only a very brave fellow, but the 
prince of gunners. I knew you could shoot, but yours was the 
toniest diamond breastpin kind of shooting ever seen. I had my 
back half turned when you started, and it was all over before I got 
fairly ready ; you gave those fellers no sort of a show.” 

“ If I had. Daddy, we should not be here, but I have been prac- 
tising the lightning snap shot the best part of my life, and have got 
it down to a pretty fine point, but then my nerve is good,” said 
the ex-cowboy. 

“ By the Lord, you are right,” cried Dawlish. “ The question is, 
Jim, have you got any nerves? ” 

“ Talking of snap shots, gentlemen,” said I, “ those I make 


2 o 6 a 2oth Century Cinderella. 

with my camera are quite as rapid, though not so deadly as Jim 
accomplishes with his six-shooter. Here are some specimens. 
Did you ever see these individuals before? ” and I took out from 
my pocket and handed round the developed pictures of Sarpi and 
Co. I kodakked outside Marshal Fields’ store. 

“ Great Caesar’s ghost ! ” cried the Emperor, “ where and when 
in the name of all that’s mysterious did you take these pictures, 
Judge, not on board the train, eh? ” 

As this was a good joke we all laughed, and when I had 
explained, the old man saiid : 

“ Why, Judge, what a detective you would have made. But 
what was all that talk during the trial in the dining car about 
that big bandit being an anarchist ? ” 

I gave him my reasons for being certain that the man he 
referred to was named Sarpi, and was the scoundrel who at- 
tempted the King of England’s life, besides being chief of an or- 
ganized band of assassins. Apart from any other evidence, what 
I had said could be fully proved by the papers found on the dead 
bodies of the train robbers.” 

“ They will make you a knight of the garter and of the Holy 
Ghost and of the Golden Fleece, and I don’t know what else be- 
sides, Jim,” said Dawlish, laughing. ” Besides, you will be coral- 
ing quite a valuable collection of autograph letters of thanks from 
all the crowned heads of Europe.” 

The butler then came in, and in the most ceremonious, ordinary 
working day sort of manner, announced the fact that supper was 
waiting in the dining car. 

I noticed that during the progress of our meal the servants 
looked at Jim with a kind of adoring, frightened sort of way. 
Nothing seemed to come amiss to our hero. He ate and drank 
everything in sight. 

“ Fighting seems to agree with you, my boy,” said his father. 

It is a pity you cannot have a scrap like this occasionally.” 

When we had returned to the smoker, Jim suggested a resump- 
tion of the game, to which proposition we all agreed, as it was 
impossible to go to bed just yet with a chance of sleeping. The 
engineers having by this time replaced the torn up rails we were 
proceeding on our way.. As we were restarting the interrupted 
rubber, with the same partners as before, Jim remarked to 
Dawlish ; 

“ It is precious hard lines, Captain, those cursed robbers coming 


207 


The Passing Of The Anarchists. 

when they did, as we had a safe trebble. We were four by 
honors, and I had a tarnation strong hand in hearts besides five 
trumps, but before we begin I must apologize for having to shoot 
so close to your head, but I had no alternative, and you were in no 
sort of danger, at least from my shots.’’ 

“ No apologies are necessary, my dear boy,” replied the Cap- 
tain, “ but I wonder I have any hair left on my cranium.” Which 
reply made us all smile, as the gallant gentleman’s thatch was 
getting rather thin on the top. 

Jim and Dawlish had the luck of the devil, and when we had 
finished our last rubber, the Emperor had lost several thousand 
and I several hundred dollars. 

The dawn was breaking when my companions sought their 
downy couches, leaving me engaged in writing out a succinct 
account of the whole business for the New York Journal. I had 
told both the old man and Jim that I considered it advisable to 
lose no time in sending out an official report, and they both agreed 
with me, and also with my recommendation to stop the train at 
some station boasting of a telephone office. 

I kept the train waiting for half an hour at a small roadside 
depot. I was soon in telephone communication with my friend 
Simpson at his private residence in Brooklyn. He was tremen- 
dously surprised to hear from me from an obscure little hole-in- 
the-corner place in Utah, and still more surprised when I told him 
my object in thus bringing him up. He was deliriously grateful 
when I had done pouring my story into the receiver of his tele- 
phone. After this I boarded the train and sought some much- 
needed rest. 


2o8 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

A TRIUMPHAL PROGRESS. 


March 8. 

Before retiring for the night the Emperor had informed me 
that the attempted hold-up had induced him to alter his plans 
somewhat for the ordering of our tour. It had been arranged in 
Chicago that we should stop off two or three days at Salt Lake 
City, but now under the circumstances he had decided to leave 
this out of the program and go straight through to ’Frisco, 
which I thought was a very sensible plan, as certain members of 
our party were so very much in evidence now as public characters 
that we should not have a moment’s privacy in the Capital of 
Mormonism, and we did not wish to turn our noble selves into 
a cheap raree show for the benefit of the vulgar, and the sooner we 
reached the semi-seclusion of Aluminum House the better, and 
every member of the party thoroughly indorsed the sentiment at 
breakfast this morning. Mr. Clark gave a handsome gratuity to 
the engineer and fireman at Ogden (where we changed locomo- 
tives) for the zeal they displayed in replacing the torn-up rails, and 
in other respects. It was not their fault that they were held up ; 
it wasn’t to be expected that they should sacrifice their lives. 

The news of the train attack had not apparently reached Ogden 
from New York when we arrived at that junction, and Mr. Clark 
asked our retiring engine men to keep their mouths shut until we 
had slid out, but as the day advanced it was soon apparent that 
the telegraph and telephone had done their work, as at all the little 
Nevada oases that we passed through the scanty population turned 
out to give us a cheer as we rushed by. I hate that weary ride 
through Nevada from Ogden to Reno, how tired one’s eyes get at 
looking at the eternal sage brush, and those gaunt-looking Buttes 
in the distance. There is a distressing monotony in the scenery, 
and a most depressing sense of utter desolation. Some day, per- 
haps, when the pressure of population necessitates the irrigation of 


209 


A Triumphal Progress. 

these at present infertile plains Nevada may rank as a great 
stock-raising and even a corn-growing State. But at present it 
does not pay to irrigate except for fruit raising on a very limited 
scale, hence the population which was artificially fostered during 
the great silver boom in the fifties now is away below that required 
by the constitution as warranting a claim for Statehood. I sup- 
pose it would not do to reduce a State to the rank of a territory, 
but it does seem an absurd anomaly that Nevada should exercise 
with its tiny population of less than 50,000 persons (mostly 
tough) the same influence in the Senate at Washington as New 
York or Massachusetts with their millions of (on the average) 
the best educated people in the world. The only way to remedy 
this monstrous condition of afifairs would be to give each State, 
in addition to its normal number of two, an extra Senator for 
every, say, half million of population. This would largely increase 
the Senate, but at the same time would bring an influx into that 
body of a number of highly-educated intelligent men, with the 
consequence that that enormously influential assembly would 
consult its own dignity and refrain from making those gigantic 
breaks and blunders that, from time to time, cause it to pose as 
the wonder and laughing-stock of the civilized world. There is 
no doubt that we badly need reform in the machinery, both of 
our national and State Governments. In regard to the latter, let 
us look at the New England States for instance; their method 
of representation remains, for the most part, where it was a 
hundred years ago. One need not go farther than New Haven, 
Conn., a city I am well acquainted with. Well, in this year of 
grace, 1921, its population is fully 180,000, and it still only sends 
two members to the Legislature at Hartford. Whereas there are 
quite a number of small places with a population under 10,000, 
which have equal political influence with New Haven. This 
state of things is as scandalously bad (and considering the amaz- 
ing improvement in general enlightenment), worse than the con- 
dition of the political misrepresentation of England and Wales 
previous to the great Reform Bill of 1832. There was no doubt 
a goodly array of rotten boroughs in old England then; are 
there none in New England now? Let the Democrats see to this. 
They are the interested parties with a large majority voting the 
Democratic ticket in the State of Connecticut; it is an extra- 
ordinary fact that the Republicans command a considerable ma- 
jority in the House of Representatives at Hartford. The stronger 


210 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

side is gagged and bound by the weaker, and the gag and the 
chain are both made of a dollarous material, a dolorous condition 
indeed. After this bad pun I will resume my narrative. I am not 
in politics, thank God, so it isn’t my business anyhow, but I like 
seeing my opinions in black and white occasionally, even if it 
is only for my own edification. 

The system now in universal use of locomotives tanking up 
en route obviated the necessity of stopping, except to change 
engines. The only place we pulled up at between Ogden and Reno 
was Humboldt City. I think it is rather a slur on the memory 
of the immortal traveler, geographer, and naturalist to associate 
him with a little one-mule place like this. A number of people 
tried to board the train, and Jim had to go out and speak to 
them, which he did in a very brief, modest manner amidst shouts 
of “ Bully for you, my boy.” ‘‘ You are the man for us.” 
“ Hoorah for Jim Clark, the bandit plugger ! ” In the face of such 
patent marks of popularity what could Jim do but order the butler 
to serve drinks all round, and then there were cries for Mrs. 
Clark, and when Dora made her appearance on the stoop of the 
smoker, there was silence for a few seconds, and then a yell went 
up of mingled admiration and adoration from this rough crowd 
of miners, cowboys, trackmen, and fruit farmers, who had never 
seen anything so lovely before as she. There were desert men 
who had ridden in on their half-broken little hardy ponies twenty 
miles and more, who begged to be allowed to kiss her hand, and 
one great bronzed-bearded giant craved in husky tones for one 
of her gloves. Dora at once acceded to his request, and he 
kissed it reverentially, and fixed it in his hat amid the envy of 
his mates. I’ll bet rather than lose that treasured trophy he 
would fight till he was dead. There is a chivalry in the hearts 
of some of these wild uncivilized Westerners that vividly recalls 
the woman worship of medieval knight errantry, and puts 
to shame the superficial lip service of our Eastern dudes. I 
know that this struck Dora in the same way as it did me, as when 
she reentered she was in a tremble with emotion, and her bright 
eyes were filled with tears. A touch of nature makes the whole 
world kin is as true an aphorism now in this twentieth century of 
ours as ever it was. It was marvelous when one thinks of it with 
what celerity the intelligence of the attempted hold-up had spread 
already, but it gave us a taste of what we may expect when we 
arrive at our destination. 


211 


A Triumphal Progress. 

It was approaching midnight when we reached Reno. The 
depot was crammed with a seething mass of humanity, and it 
was with difficulty that the change of engines could be effected 
without slaughtering some of the cheering excited people, who 
seemed reckless what happened to them as long as they got a 
sight of the hero and heroine. Both Jim and Dora had to show 
themselves, in order to satisfy the eager throng. The same two 
locomotives that had taken the Emperor out on his record-break- 
ing run were waiting to haul us over the Sierras to ’Frisco. 

Before we started, the old man, Jim, Dawlish, and I made our 
way through the crowd to the head of the train, and we all, amid 
deafening cheers, climbed on to the plates of the two engines and 
shook hands most cordially with the engineers and firemen, who 
had decorated their locomotives very tastefully with laurel and 
seemed as proud as haughty dukes that to themselves had been 
accorded the prized privilege of pulling the famous train with its 
still more famous inmates on the last stage of its triumphal 
progress. At last we commenced our midnight ride over the 
Sierras. At Reno was handed in the advanced guard of that del- 
uge of congratulatory telegrams and cables that I knew must 
overwhelm us when we had reached home. I say home advisedly, 
because Bella and I must consider that henceforward we were to 
form an integral part of the Clark establishment. 

March 9. 

I am not a great sleeper — brain workers rarely are — at the 
same time, I have always been from habit and inclination an 
early riser. I have found it best to do one’s heavy work in those 
quiet peaceful hours that follow the first blush of dawn. Of 
course, in New York it is not always possible to get up with the 
lark, especially when one has been feasting on those delicious little 
birds along with a lot of other dainties at Rector’s or Sherry’s 
well after midnight in company of one’s wife and a select party 
of friends, having first patronized Wallack’s, the vaudeville, or 
perhaps the opera. These outings were of frequent occurrence 
with us, and after a harassing day’s work a small divarsion (as 
the Irish say) does one a power of good, but I always made up 
for these dissipations by retiring to roost at a reasonable hour 
when there was nothing on in the shape of evening amusement 
on the carpet, and my wife is thoroughly in accord with me on 
this point, as she is a wise woman and knows that as a health 
and therefore a complexion preserver an hour’s sleep before the 


212 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

time when graves do yawn and ghosts do perambulate is worth 
two after. I had one of my fits of insomnia on this particular 
night, and so left my deliciously comfortable bed, where my wife 
was peacefully sleeping just as the light of another day was begin- 
ning to illuminate the wild mountain scenery, and our train was 
rushing down the Pacific slope of the Sierras, and the sun’s rays 
were trying to pierce the gloomy depths of the valley surround- 
ing that precipitous frowning bluff of Cape Horn. I dressed 
and made my way to the smoker, lit a cigar, and helped myself to 
a Scotch whisky and soda in the little bar-room, and sat down to 
write up my diary, as I never seem to get any time to keep it 
posted up; what with the pleasures of the table, the charm of 
conversation with those one loves, the fascination of whist, etc., 
etc., there really does not seem to be a vacant ten minutes during 
the day. Early as was the hour, I believe the whole of the Eng- 
lish colony of fruit-growers were assembled at the little Auburn 
depot to see the aluminum train go through, and possibly mis- 
taking me for friend Jim, the crowd raised quite a cheer. By 
the time we had got on to level ground I was joined by the old 
man and Jim. The latter seemed a little anxious and worried. 

‘‘ What’s the matter, my boy ? ” said I. 

“ Oh, nothing much,” replied the hero, but I feel in a des- 
perate funk.” 

‘‘ That’s good,” said I ; “ fancy you being alarmed about any- 
thing.” 

“ Why,” replied Jim. “ it’s this way ; perhaps they may want 
me to make a speech when we get to Oaklands, and I would rather 
face a crowd of robbers any day than to stand on my legs and jaw. 
I made an awful mess of it before those good chumps at Humboldt 
City, but what I should do in front of a big mob I can’t say. I 
shall have to get you to jaw for me; you are a daisy orator. 
Judge.” 

“ They will want to run you for Congress, Jim,” said his father, 
and then you will have to go on the stump.” 

I’ll see them damned first,” said Jim, bluntly; “ I would rather 
go to Cape Nome.” 

“And leave Dora?” said the old man, laughing; “she would 
probably object to accompany you.” 

“ Oh, then we would go to Europe and live there,” said Jim. 

“ And desert your old father and your country. I am afraid^ 


A Triumphal Progress. 213 

Jim, great man as you are, you are but a poor American,” replied 
his sire, who looked rather crestfallen. 

“ Oh, you must come, too. Daddy, of course,” replied Jim, “ and 
the Judge and his charming wife.” 

” And the Rector and the Mother Superior,” said I, laughing. 
But I could see all the time that the Emperor did not relish 
the idea of semi-expatriation at all ; he was a true blue Californian, 
and thought there was no city in the world that matched his 
beloved San Francisco. So I thought it best to change the con- 
versation, and got Jim to recount some of his adventures with 
Rocky Mountain grizzlies and Californian lions. 

” Well, my boy,” said the old man, ” I will allow that you have 
been a great hunter. The only bears I have ever run up against 
were two-legged ones near Wall Street, and here let me give you 
a bit of sound advice. Never sell stock you don’t own yourself, 
and then you never will be short, and don’t buy or sell on margins ; 
that is a fool’s game. If you think a good sound stock has a 
bullish tendency, buy whole blocks of it, and you may make a 
nice little pile, but buy the stock right out for cash, and you 
can’t get left.” 

“ That’s all very well for millionaires,” said I, but the small 
people haven’t the spare money ; they must either go on margins 
or leave the whole business alone.” 

“ Let them do the latter,” said the old man emphatically, “ no 
man has a right to speculate or gamble (same thing, don’t 
you know) unless he can afford to lose the money. It ought to 
be a penitentiary offence to run a bucket-shop. I think the 
damned fools of the world should be protected a little. The most 
pernicious invention of modern times is undoubtedly the ticker; 
look at the scores of tape fiends there are in every broker’s office 
wasting their time and money.” 

“ I guess I never cared much for gambling on stocks,” said Jim, 
“ anyway, but I’ll go the limit on a poker game, or a faro layout.” 

“ I thought you had quitted gambling, Jim,” said I, laughing. 

“ Oh, I have, except when Dora gives me leave, but she will 
always do that every time I ask her and give her half a dozen 
kisses.” 

There was silence for quite a while, and then Jim exclaimed: 
‘‘ Here we are at Sacramento.” We all three (Dawlish was still 


214 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

in the arms of Morpheus) rose and adjourned to the observation 
car. 

‘‘ Thank goodness/’ continued Jim, “ we are not going to stop 
here.” 

“ I am afraid,” said I, “ that it will cause a deal of disappoint- 
ment, as the good folk doubtless expect to get a view of you, Jim, 
and to hear you speak.” 

Indeed, it must have been as I said, for as we dashed with the 
roar of a sixty-mile-an-hour gait through the depot, we could 
catch a glimpse of the sea of upturned faces and the waving of 
countless hats, and for one brief moment could hear rising high 
above the crash of the train the din of many voices like the 
confused sound of a distant waterfall. 

I chaffed Jim at breakfast about his nervous tremors, and said : 

Look at your wife, how calm and collected she is ; she has a 
much greater ordeal to go through than you, for she will have 
to face the scrutinizing eyes of the ’Friscan society ladies, who 
will come to take stock of their new queen.” 

“ Oh, Judge,” said the sweet creature, “ do you think there 
will be many ladies at the depot ? ” 

“ As many as that building will hold, you bet,” replied I, seri- 
ously. 

“ Oh, Bella, how do I look please? Tell me true; I forgot all 
about that,” and she really seemed much more perturbed than 
her valiant spouse at the thought of not being quite up to what 
the fulsome newspaper reports had described her. 

“ Oh, you will do, dear,” said my wife, blithesomely. 

“ The ’Friscans will think they raise angels in England,” said I. 

“ I say. Judge,” exclaimed Jim, “ if you go on flattering Dora 
like that, you will make her as vain as a peacock. She thinks an 
awful lot of your opinion.” 

“ That’s more than my wife does ; am I right Bella dear ? ” 
said I. 

“ Oh, what a story, dear ; you know I think you more infallible 
than any blessed Pope,” replied Bella. 

“ I say, Jim,” said the old man, “ to what sex do you con- 
sider Dora belongs? You compared her with a peacock just now 
You surely mean a peahen, and that’s no great shucks in the way 
of a compliment, as a peahen is by no means a lovely bird.” 

“ You’ve scored one there at any rate. Daddy,” said Dora, laugh- 


A Triumphal Progress. 21S 

ing. When shall I get Jim out of the habit of making these 
extraordinary breaks ? ” 

Never had the fair lady looked more entrancing. She had 
attired herself in her costume of black velvet and chinchilla, and 
her eyes were as bright and killing as the bullets from her re- 
redoubtable husband's pistol. All this badinage had the effect of 
dispelling the cloud of apprehension in that gentleman’s mind, and 
he now looked forward with tolerable equanimity to the future. 

Though I had chaffed Jim unmercifully, I confess to feeling 
a bit nervous myself, as our train drew up on the arrival plat- 
form at the Oakland terminus of the Southern Pacific Railroad. 
It must be trying for even the players of secondary parts to have 
to act before a densely-packed audience in a great strange theater, 
and that was what our party had to do, Jim and Dora taking 
the leading roles, and the worst of it was, all our parts were 
totally unrehearsed. 

The arrangements were perfect ; short as was the notice, Mr. 
Norton, the superintendent of the station, showed himself fully 
equal to the emergency. A double rank of policemen and railway 
men lined each side of a narrow avenue that led down from the 
train to the steam ferry, keeping back the tightly-wedged mass 
of cheering humans, chiefly of the masculine gender. Mr. Norton 
received us in a most courteous manner, congratulating us in 
a manly way, praising Jim for his prowess and Dora for her pluck 
and beauty. The latter was the most self-possessed of our crowd, 
and kept bowing gracefully like a real queen, right and left, as 
we passed down the aisle, while prominent business men in silk 
hats and frock coats, cheek by jowl, with the horny-handed sons 
of toil in dirty overalls, reached over the strong shoulders of 
policemen and porters to pat the back of the hero. The old man 
also came in for his share of applause. But it was on the 
’Frisco side of the ferry that society had congregated, as the 
ladies naturally feared to face the rush and tumble of the depot. 
Here it was that the old man was met by his numerous friends, and 
here it was that we were personally received by the Mayor of the 
city and the bigbugs, and here it was that Dora had to sustain 
the scrutiny of hundreds of pairs of eyes that were disposed to 
be captious and envious, but ended by falling themselves under 
the spell that Dora seemed to cast around her wherever she went, 
and she could well say with the great Caesar : “ I came, I saw, I 
conquered.” 


2i6 a 2oth Century Cinderella. 

The Emperor’s automobiles were waiting to take us up to 
Aluminum House. The Mayor and a few of the old man’s most 
special friends accompanied us to Sutro. The streets were alive 
with people, and cheering was loud and continuous all along the 
route. All this was very gratifying, but we were glad to get 
away from the madding throng, though we knew that there 
was about the busiest time any of us had ever had before us, but 
take things as they come : sufficient unto the day is the evil, and 
also the good thereof. 


The Lawyer Pumps The Secretary. 


217 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE LAWYER PUMPS THE SECRETARY. 


March 20. 

I CAN barely realize that I haven’t opened this blessed diary 
for eleven days. I must have become insensible to the passage of 
time, which, after all, is to a great extent a figure of speech. 
Time is very nearly (as a metaphysical idea) coincident with con- 
sciousness which may be more or less intense; one reads of some 
men who in a few moments experienced whole aeons of agony, and 
of others to whom the elapse of weeks in a fever of delirium 
seemed a single instant. We know not what time is ; that is, we 
cannot properly define it. St. Augustine said, in answer to an 
inquirer : “ I know when you do not ask me.” Hobbes defined 
time “ as the phantasm of before and after in motion.” Aristotle 
tried to give a concrete idea of it by stating that it is^ “ the number 
of motion according to the former and the latter.” The two last 
definitions, at any rate, are obviously inadequate, because the 
notion of time is involved in the expression “ before and after,” 
“ former and latter,” and the first is merely the very acute observa- 
tion of a philosopher. The fact is, time is an inscrutable mystery. 
I am fond sometimes of amusing myself by pondering over such 
matters ; it is a relief to the bustle and frivolity of the world. I 
like endeavoring to convey in words concrete notions of things 
difficult or impossible of comprehension. My privately elaborated 
definition of time is, “ The display of phenomena caused by the 
dual revolution of the earth round the sun and its own axis.” Of 
course, there must be a hidden flaw in this, but to me it seems to 
fill the bill perhaps better than those above quoted. 

We often affirm that time is money; it would be more correct 
to say “ Time may he equivalent to money,” because it is golden 
or leaden, according to how we employ it. We also say “ time 
flies.” This, of course, is absurd. We may put it in the form 
“ Time may seem to any of us individually to fly,” but it doesn’t 


2i8 a 2oth Century Cinderella. 

do so in reality ; in fact, it goes slower to us moderns than it 
did to men in the paleolithic age, since it has been ascertained 
(such is the delicacy and accuracy of scientific investigation) that 
the action of the tides has sensibly retarded the diurnal spinning 
of the earth in space to the extent of about a second during the 
last hundred thousand years. In other words, our day is longer 
by one-sixtieth part of a minute than it was in the period when 
the woolly mammoth or the festive pleiosaurus cavorted around 
as is admirably depicted in the old back numbers of that sarcastic 
and clever periodical. The New York Life. But time goes slow 
to some persons ; for instance, to a middle-aged nephew waiting 
to handle the dollars of a wealthy perennially cheerful octogena- 
rian uncle, who seems to his despairing relative (whose own power 
of enjoyment is gradually slipping away from him) to have made 
a pact with the scythe-bearer or to have copiously drunk of the 
fountain of eternal youth. Time, on the other hand, goes terribly 
fast to the exhausted pugilist who, with the zealous aid of his 
seconds, is vainly hoping to pull himself together and avert defeat ; 
how desperately he strives, in mind at least, to retard the passage 
of those thirty seconds, at the expiration of which the fateful word 
‘‘Time ” will be called by the remorseless referee, and he will 
have to stagger into the middle of that 24-foot ring to face his 
seemingly untiring adversary, and perhaps to receive a crashing 
blow on the point of the jaw or on the solar plexus that will 
cause him to be indifferent to the passage of the enemy (as time 
is sometimes called by foolish idle people), since he (the pugilist) 
will be temporarily lost to the world. Time is also of the essence 
of the contract as is laid down by Blackstone and Chitty, or rather 
by Ulpian and Gains, ages before these two great English lawyers 
began to eat pie. 

And then there is the delightfully vague language in which 
one of the Hebrew prophets writes of the future happening of 
some (to him) tremendous catastrophe “ in a time, a time, and 
half a time,” which may equally mean a million as a thousand 
years hence. Then think of all the ingenious contrivances for 
computing time that men have employed. The clepsydra, or 
water clock ; the gnomon, or sundial ; the hour glass, the regulated 
dropping of water, and lastly, the marvelous evolutionized mechan- 
ism of the clock and the watch. The mention of the last-named 
reminds me that mine has stopped because I forgot to wind it up 
last night. Well, I should die at my post if this state of things 


The Lawyer Pumps The Secretary. 219 

went on much longer, working day and night, with ne’er a let up, 
but Dora tells me that we shall start for Europe in a few days, and 
after all, this is only a spurt, and my ordinary duties are not 
of a very onerous description. 

The fact is, since we arrived here the United States postal 
machinery has been pouring upon us an appalling flood of tele- 
grams, cables, letters, and even postal-cards, congratulating Jim, 
Dora, the Emperor, and all of us collectively, and individually, on 
our victory over the robbers. Jim must himself have received 
several thousands of communications from all classes of persons. 
The hold-up business has evidently assumed an aspect of interna- 
tional importance, and when it was conclusively shown that the 
majority of the slaughtered bandits were political assassins, the 
red terror seems to have received a very severe, if not a mortal, 
blow, as the Italian Ambassador, in a carefully guarded letter of 
congratulation to Jim, hinted. But the Kings of Italy and Eng- 
land, also the Czar of Russia, the Emperor of Germany, and even 
the Sultan of Turkey, did not hesitate to cable their personal 
thanks to our hero for removing, in the person of Sarpi, the head 
center of anarchy, and these messages were supplemented by 
others from Prime Ministers, Secretaries of State, Chiefs of 
Police, and other personages, expressive of their appreciation of 
the service Jim had performed to society at large. Poor Dawlish 
has been buried under a mound of letters. The old man brought 
up from his down-town office a couple of telegraphists and stenog- 
raphers to lighten Miss Satchell’s and our labors in replying to 
this multitudinous correspondence. I say “ our,” because I felt 
it my duty to assist in getting through the job to the best of my 
abilities. I go to the office each day to attend to my duties as head 
manager of the old man’s business, but soon found that those 
duties were generally of a very light character, and really only 
required my active interference in the case of a litigation in respect 
to infringements of any of the Emperor’s patents. So, after a 
couple of hours each day, of nominal supervision of the work of 
the very competent staff, I returned to the house to assist Dawlish 
and his underlings. And we had to pitch in, I tell you, with a 
vengeance. It would have been hopeless to expect Jim, in any 
case, to answer personally any but the most important letters, such 
as the one from the Italian Ambassador; Jim has neither the 
tongue of a fluent speaker nor the pen of a ready writer, and 
hates work at any time; besides this, he, Dora, the old man, and 


220 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

my wife have been hard at it most of the day, returning calls and 
receiving callers. It was hardly to be expected that Jim should 
occupy the remainder of his leisure time answering laudatory 
and congratulatory epistles. So the brunt of the work necessarily 
fell on Dawlish and myself. Of course, in the great majority of 
cases, signed typewritten letters or telegrams sufficed, but there 
were missives from scores, nay hundreds, of bigbugs, which 
could not be treated with such scant courtesy. Dawlish and I 
accordingly took this work in hand, and to-day, thank God, we 
have got through, and I don't expect there will be much more to 
do in this line. 

In addition to having had to work like beavers during the 
day, we have been kept busy at night, what with dinner parties, 
balls, at-homes, theaters, and other junketings. We had to dine 
with the Mayor and lunch with the Governor of the State, and, 
thank God, breakfast with our noble selves. That is the only 
meal at which we can converse with ease and comfort. My wife, I 
know, has been of great assistance to Dora, who must be nearly 
bored out of her life by the well-meant attentions of kind but 
vulgar people. I emphatically say that I wouldn’t care to live 
altogether in ’Frisco. Everything is all right but society, and that 
is all wrong. There is a low standard of manners and breeding. 
It does not seem an extraordinary thing to see a drunken dude 
at a ball or at an at-home, and I must say the ladies, from what 
I have seen and heard, are, generally speaking, as innocent of 
hypocrisy in concealing their peccadilloes as the artless savage 
maidens of the plains. 

If the Clarks make London their future headquarters, which 
is certainly not a contingent remainder, but a vested certainty, in 
spite of the Emperor’s potential opposition, then I shall transact 
the whole of his business from an office in that city. Mr. Clark’s 
is a kind of business one can supervise just as well in one place as 
another, now that the telephone has been so immensely perfected. 
“ At last we are through,” I exclaimed to Dawlish, as we flung 
our respective selves into American rockers, about 4 p. m. to-day 
in the central court. 

^ “ At last,” replied that excellent gentleman, with a profound 
sigh of relief ; “ what will you have ? I am going to imbibe a quart 
of draught Bass.” 

“ That’s the ticket,” said I. “ You can’t improve on that lead, 
old ma-n. Nothing like good malt and hops after all. Never touch 


The Lawyer Pumps The Secretary. 221 

those filthy lager and light beers ; they are wretched muck com- 
pounded of glucose, coloring matter, bitters, and deleterious acids 
that injure the coats of the stomach, and are conducive to the 
most fatal forms of kidney trouble. Good Scotch whisky and 
Jiass’s draught ale suit my book.” 

“ I am with you. Judge, all the time,” replied Dawlish. “ Manu- 
facturing and selling beer that is injurious to health (as nearly 
all those lager and steam beers are that won’t keep more than 
six months) should be punished with a ruinous fine and a long 
term in the penitentiary.” 

“ You could never enforce the law,” I replied, “ the brewers 
would square the inspectors.” 

“ The only way would be to encourage the rascals to play the 
spy on each other by giving the informer half the fine,” said 
Dawlish. 

“ But,” replied I, ‘‘ the brewers have too great influence in the 
State Legislatures. The only real remedy would be a United 
States law against adulteration. As a matter of fact, no beer or 
ale should be brewed except with good malt and hops. It should 
be criminal to use acids and glucose. I am of opinion that all 
legislation on matters of universal importance, such as public 
health, divorce, food adulteration, and forestry should emanate 
from Washington, and be treated as bankruptcy and education 
have been. It is a scandal to allow the ignorant corrupt jays that 
chiefly compose the State Legislatures to have the power of 
monkeying with matters of first-rate importance. Let them mud- 
dle along with comparatively small questions of local interest.” 

“ In some respects and along certain lines,” said Dawlish, “ the 
more a government is centralized the better.” 

“ How do you like living here. Captain? ” said I. “ You ought 
to be quite an authority on the comparative condition of things in 
this country and your own, and I can see that you are unprejudiced 
and observant.” 

“ Well,” replied the Captain, I like this country very much, 
and I have always got on capitally with the people. There are 
very few Englishmen who have even the most superficial acquaint- 
ance with the United States of America or their inhabitants. 
The comparative few, barring, of course, business men. who ven- 
ture across, spend two or three hustling days in New York, pay 
a brief visit to Boston, then rush hurriedly to Niagara, swoop 
down frantically on Chicago, and return home, and tell their 


222 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

friends that they have done the States, and are henceforth con- 
sulted as oracles on the manners and customs of this great and 
extensive country. Beyond a question, the ordinary club habitue 
in London is on the average a better read man than his compeer 
here, but the American will know probably ten times more about 
England than the Britisher does of this Republic. I think this 
is distinctly a deplorable condition, as it leads to puerile mistakes 
and dangerous delusions on the other side, one of which is that 
Englishmen regard Americans as brother Anglo-Saxons, when, as 
a matter of fact, they (Americans) are a conglomeration of 
most of the European races. In Pennsylvania, New York, the 
Virginias, Ohio, Kentucky, and the New England States, you find 
a certain proportion of the population sprung from English, Welsh, 
or Scotch ancestors, but, generally speaking, Irish, Germans, 
Italians, Poles, and niggers constitute far more than one-half of 
the population. These heterogeneous elements are bound together 
by the bonds of a common tongue and self-interest, but the Anglo- 
Saxon element, or, to speak more plainly, the English (as such 
a being as an Anglo-Saxon only exists in the perverted imagina- 
tion of writers of fiction and of newspaper leader writers), 
though still very powerful intellectually, socially and commer- 
cially, is in a hopelessly small minority ; but the purblind Britisher 
is not aware of this, and is surprised by the semi-hostility often 
evinced by American people and the American press to what is 
euphemistically termed the great Anglo-Saxon alliance.” 

It interested me to hear a regular John Bull talk in this 
plain, honest way, and I thought I would take this opportunity 
of drawing my friend out still further, so, lighting a fresh cigar, I 
remarked : 

“ You have traveled a whole lot about the Union with the Em- 
pyeror; would you mind giving me. Captain, your candid opinion 
about our clubs over here, as compared with your English ones ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. I consider I am competent to reply to your ques- 
tion,” replied Dawlish, '' since I have been an honorary member 
of nearly forty clubs in this country, and am still a member of 
the Rag (the Army and Navy), the Travelers, the Naval and 
Military, and the Junior Carlton Clubs in London. In the first 
place, their rules enable the American clubs to exercise a great 
deal more hospitality to strangers than do the English ones, and 
I think that, on the whole, they come up to the ideal standard of 
what social institutions should be perhaps better than the Eng- 


223 


The Law3^er Pumps The Secretary. 

lish clubs, but the former err by going too far in this direction, and 
the consequence is, that there is a very serious amount of drink- 
ing and dissipation which is generally conspicuous by its absence 
in the highly-decorous, quiet, and rather formally cold Pall Mall 
Palaces. The system of giving credit in American clubs is, I 
believe, a distinctly bad one, as it encourages extravagance, and it 
does not allow provisions, cigars, or wine to be sold at such a 
cheap rate as they would be if they were paid for by the 
members in ready money. In London a man can get a dinner for 
less than a dollar at his club which he couldn’t possibly obtain 
at a restaurant for anything like the same money. The same in 
regard to wine and cigars, everything is absolutely first-class in 
quality and very moderate in price, but this great advantage is 
only obtained by a most rigid adherence to the cash and no credit 
system. A man in a first-class London club may have a swell 
coterie of friends, or may not, but he usually seeks his club, not 
to talk, drink, and have a good time, but to write his letters, read 
newspapers and books, dine by himself as often as not, and 
spend his evening (if he doesn’t go home) with a favorite book 
in the smoking-room, or in playing a rubber of whist, or a quiet 
game of billiards. Many of the great American clubs are assimi- 
lating themselves unconsciously to the English style. It would be 
an excellent thing if the first-class clubs of Pall Mall were to break 
down their cast-iron rule of not admitting temporary members. It 
is hard on the American clubman when in London that he cannot 
easily find a harbor of refuge to rest himself awhile, but must 
write his letters and see his friends in his hotel.” 

” Thank you. Captain ; I am as inquisitive as a reporter, but 
do you prefer San Francisco to New York as a residence? ” 

“ Oh, don’t mention the name of reporters ! What an awful 
time we did have for the first three or four days after our return 
here,” said Dawlish. “ Jim swore he would shoot some of them if 
they teased him any more, and this threat made them skin out 
pretty slick, I tell you. You were down-town at the office at the 
time. I laughed till I almost burst myself — but pardon me, I 
haven’t replied to your question. I will answer without hesita- 
tion. I can say that I prefer San Francisco chiefly on account 
of the superiority of its climate. Of course, New York is away 
ahead in almost every other respect, but from my own experience, 
as well as from that of my friends in the States on the Atlantic 
seaboard, genuine hospitality is as conspicuous by its absence in the 


224 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

East as it is by its universal presence in the great West. A New 
York or Boston man will rarely offer you a meal unless he 
expects some equivalent in return. God help you if you are 
broke in the Empire City, for no one else will. A stranger in 
the East receives a welcome, the temperature of which is regulated 
by the reputed length of his purse, and if he possesses, or affirms 
that he possesses a title (it may be only an Italian Countship 
which costs about $1,500 to purchase) he is worshipped as an idol 
by all the high-born buds and matrons of Beacon Street, and of 
Commonwealth and Fifth Avenues.” 

“ What strikes you. Captain, as the principal differences in 
the prominent English and American men of business ? ” I said. 

“ That’s an easy question to answer. Judge. I think the 
American is more enterprising, readier to catch on to novel 
methods, to work in new grooves, and to take more chances in 
establishing fresh openings in his line of business than his 
English brother, who is rather too conservative in his notions. 
But the former has nothing, as a rule, to interest him outside his 
particular business; he looks upon any relaxation as waste of 
precious time. His only enjoyment is making money, he too fre- 
quently is utterly ignorant of the art of spending it. He hardly 
ever goes in for politics ; perhaps he is too honest and remembers 
the old adage, ‘ You cannot handle pitch without defiling your- 
self.’ He has, generally speaking, no large landed estate, is no 
sportsman, doesn’t care for farming, has no taste for gardening,, 
nor even for literature outside the mental pabulum afforded by his 
Sunday newspaper. When he retires from business, if he ever 
does (as he generally prefers to die in harness from heart or 
kidney trouble occasioned by too great application, combined with 
too much eating and drinking, and generally too little exercise), 
he is really at a loss what to do either with his time or money. 
He possesses little or no authority over his wife or his children. 
His girls form their own associates, and rarely consult him except 
on financial questions. His boys go to a university, where they 
mostly only learn expensive habits. They become club and society 
men, play golf, tennis, learn European habits, and acquire a rooted 
distaste for anything in the shape of work. In fact, the father of 
the family in such a case — if he is an easy-going fellow — finds 
himself a cypher in his own house, and feels that a screw is 
loose somewhere, but cannot exactly locate the spot. If, on the 
Other hand, he plays the tyrant, the result is still worse ; his daugh- 


The Lawyer Pumps The Secretary. 225 

ters make disreputable marriages with any adventurers who hap- 
pen to come along, and his boys play the hypocrite, and some- 
times disgrace him by outrageous goings on. In either case all 
this disastrous state of things is caused by the boss devoting all 
his time to his office and business, and none to his family and 
household. 

The English successful manufacturer or merchant has, on the 
other hand, generally well-defined ambitions outside his mill or his 
counting-house. When he has made a big pile he either sells out 
to a joint stock company or takes his sons or his ablest business 
subordinates into partnership, and, having made things snug, pre- 
pares to have a good time himself. Perhaps he may retain a gen- 
eral supervision of the business for awhile so as to prepare it for 
his ultimate complete withdrawal. He purchases a large country 
estate, entertains on a grand scale, subscribes to the foxhounds, 
and does his best to get into county society, and to obtain a seat 
in the House of Commons. While he is actively engaged in 
business, he probably had some hobby or recreation in the shape 
of running a model farm, game shooting, or fox hunting, or per- 
haps the study of one of the ologies or experimental chemistry. 
He continues to cultivate his particular hobby after his retire- 
ment, and besides, interests himself with the tenants and labor- 
ers on his new estate, and dresses in the country gentleman’s 
orthodox costume of knee breeches, gaiters, and shooting-coat ; he 
rides about on a stout cob, and looks himself into matters con- 
nected with the repairs of farm buildings and fences, the drainage 
and the subsoiling of his land, and the well-being of his depend- 
ants. 

“ There are so many more avenues of useful unpaid public 
employment for men of the leisured classes' in England than in 
America. So our magnate may, if he choose, assist in the admin- 
istration of the affairs of the city in which he made his wealth 
without stealing its franchises or misappropriating its funds. 
He can also seek election to seats in his county and parish coun- 
cils, and be appointed a magistrate and deal out justice to tres- 
passers, petty thieves, and poachers. If he has a family he fre- 
quently succeeds in marrying his well-dowered daughters to the 
sons of neighboring squires. His eldest son, on whom will de- 
volve the bulk of the family wealth at his father’s death, is perhaps 
sent to Oxford or Cambridge, and afterwards becomes a nominal 
member of the bar, and assists his father in the management of 
IS 


226 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

his estate, and in due course takes unto himself a wife of aristo- 
cratic lineage. The younger sons either enter their father’s busi- 
ness, one of the liberal professions, or seek their fortunes in the 
colonies. 

“It is impossible in such cases to draw anything but rough 
outlines, but I believe the above descriptions will be found to 
meet the cases, more or less, of a majority of the eminently suc- 
cessful business men of the two countries, respectively.” 

“ I feel quite convinced. Captain,” said I, “ of the truth of 
your very clear and candid observations, but, nevertheless, I think 
there is rapidly springing up among our business men a feeling 
that the accumulation of wealth is not the o-nly thing to live for.” 

“ That is true,” responded Dawlish. “ The millionaires of 
America have proved themselves to be the most magnificent phi- 
lanthropists the world has ever seen. The names of Peabody, 
Carnegie, and Rockefeller are immortal, but the gist of my argu- 
ment is that the American business man, though he knows so 
well how to amass the money, has not yet fully comprehended the 
science of enjoying any material portion of it himself. It is 
all work and no play with him. I maintain that this is wrong.” 

“ I am going to ask you one more question. Captain, and that 
a very delicate one, so please don’t knock me down. It is this: 
Why is it that you have not married out here ; I am sure it cannot 
be for want of opportunities ? ” 

“ Well, Judge, it isn’t the first time I have been asked that 
question, and on more than one occasion the questioner was a fair 
lady. My reply has invariably been that my devotion to my em- 
ployer forbids me entering the holy estate, which, of course, is 
all kid, as the old man has been trying to bribe me into getting 
spliced, as he says that Keziah doesn’t think it respectable for a 
young man to be single, which makes him laugh till he cries. 
He once told me he would give me $5,000,000 if I would marry his 
sister; he loves his joke, the Emperor does. But you are the 
only individual to whom I shall have told the real reason for 
my celibacy. The fact is, if I choose a bride it will be one of 
my own countrywomen. The American girl of the best class is one 
of the most winsome charming creatures on the face of God’s 
earth, but she is a craft constructed ta race for prizes in land- 
locked havens, and to sail over summer seas, and, generally speak- 
ing, cannot weather the furious gales and heavy seas of adversity. 
While she is much more brilliant, adaptable, and versatile than 


The Lawyer Pumps The Secretary. 227 

her English sister, she lacks the solid qualities of the latter. Life 
is not all ice-cream and strawberries, and I should prefer to trust 
my happiness to one who would be a good pal to me whether I 
had money to burn or not, in health or sickness, till death do us 
part. I want a wife like Mrs. Clark, not so beautiful (I can’t 
expect that), but as good, sensible, God-fearing, pure-hearted as 
she is, who will stick to a man and help him to fight his battles for 
him. Jim is a lucky man, and he knows it, too, and so does the 
Emperor, you bet. Why, I can notice a great change in Jim 
already. He hardly ever goes near his clubs ; he hasn’t touched a 
card outside this house since his return, and is no longer wayward 
and devil-me-care as he used to be.” 

“ My dear Captain,” said I, “ you are interesting me intensely, 
but I must now implore you to descend from very excellent gen- 
eralizations to determinate particulars, and demonstrate to me 
the definite reasons for your prejudice against my country- 
women from a marriageable bachelor’s point of view.” 

“ Since you particularly desire me to do so, Judge, I will comply 
with your wishes, though I am aware that I shall be skating on 
pretty thin ice,” replied Dawlish. 

“ To commence with, the United States of America are rightly 
regarded as constituting woman’s earthly Paradise. It is an 
acknowledged truism that she is treated here with greater 
courtesy, chivalry, and consideration than anywhere else. In 
fact, a species of woman worship may be said to prevail in this 
country. Herbert Spencer, in his classical work of Sociology, 
shows very clearly that the higher a nation advances in the scale 
of civilization, the greater esteem is shown for its women. Ac- 
cording to this the United States of America must have arrived 
at the very apex of culture. The Teutonic element very largely 
prevails in the States, and from time immemorial women in Europe 
have occupied an immensely higher position among the Northern, 
nations of German and Scandinavian origin than they have among 
the so-called Latin races, though, singularly enough, it is the 
latter that have elevated Mary, the mother of Jesus, to the supreme 
rank of Queen of Heaven in the celestial hierarchy. Though 
I admit that this was accomplished in the fourth century as a 
protest against Aryanism and to compensate the Egyptian converts 
of Alexandria for the necessary dethronement of their once pet 
Deity Isis. 

Almost anywhere and at all times throughout the Eastern and 


228 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Western States (I purposely omit the South on account of the 
occasional gross animal propensities of colored men) a woman 
can go about unchaperoned and unprotected, safe from the danger 
of being insulted, which is more than can be said of Europe gen- 
erally and (I say it with shame) of my own country. 

“ The American woman at home also enjoys an amount of lib- 
erty unknown to her European sisters. As a mere girl, her par- 
ents do not venture to give her advice on serious subjects. 
They entirely neglect to teach her the duty of parental obedi- 
ence. She makes her own friends, some of whom perhaps are 
quite unknown to her father and mother. She receives those 
friends by herself in the family house. The virtues of occasional 
self-effacement and self-control are unknown quantities to her. 
Her parents encourage her in love of dress and display, and it 
never enters their heads to check or reprove their daughter on 
account of her eccentricities or extravagance. She comes to regard 
her father, brothers, and her husband (when she gets one) as 
her slaves. Indeed, the last named esteems it his privilege to toil 
all day, deny himself even harmless luxuries in order that his 
wife should wear silk gowns and Paris hats, and cut something 
of a figure. Women take their tone from their men-folk, and the 
only lesson the American girl learns from her male relatives is 
the blind adoration for one god, and one only, ‘ the almighty dol- 
lar.’ Everything is subordinated to outward show and social 
prominence, that is what at one time made the States the happy 
hunting-grounds for centless counts, beggarly barons, and landless 
lords. The rich American girl, thinking in her ignorance that 
these impecunious foreigners possess the same blind reverence 
for the female sex as her own countrymen, and eager to grasp a 
pinchbeck title that probably would be disallowed by the Chamber- 
lains of the Courts of St. James or of Vienna, was apt to entrust 
her happiness and her fortune to an adventurer, who, having se- 
cured his prize, speedily proceeded to destroy the first and dis- 
sipate the second. In my country a woman’s fortune is secured 
on her marriage by a strict settlement in the names of trustees. So 
that neither she nor her husband have the power (even if they 
wished to do so) of spending the principal, and consequently of 
robbing their children. Here a marriage settlement would be 
generally considered as an undue interference with the liberty 
of the free American girl. Apparently here, too, a man who 
marries a wealthy girl and spends her money is seldom thought 


The Lav.^yer Pumps The Secretary. 229 

otherwise than smart. In England he would be considered an 
unprincipled scoundrel. 

“ Again, the American woman is taught to regard marriage, 
not as a sacred function, entailing solemn mutual responsibili- 
iieSs but as a light-hearted convention, which can be set aside when 
its bonds are become inconvenient and galling to either of the 
contracting parties. It has come to this, that one of the weightiest 
ante-nuptial questions for the consideration of the average Ameri- 
can girl is the amount of alimony she will obtain in the event 
of a by no means improbable contingency. In fact, the marriage 
ceremony has come to be regarded here as a sort of introduction 
to the divorce court. This very idea tends to wither all sense of 
religion in the American girl’s heart, for surely to every true 
woman the marriage tie should be held to be the most sacred 
thing on earth. A nation, after all, is only an aggregation of 
families, so anything that tends to injure the family tends to 
undermine the very foundations of the state. A woman’s sheet 
anchor is her religion, though it may only be a superstition. 
Nothing is more hateful and more unnatural than a woman who 
is a pure materialist, and it pains me to have to say that, charming 
as is the American girl, her education and environments cause 
her to be in too many cases mercenary, materialistic, impatient of 
control of any kind, and irreligious. And though there are doubt- 
less plenty of women who make excellent wives on this side, I have 
come to the conclusion that a man situated as I am takes far 
greater chances of drawing a blank in the great matrimonial 
lottery in this country than by seeking a helpmeet in his own, 
where, generally speaking, girls are brought up to obey their 
parents and their husbands in all rational respects, to fear God, and 
do their duty in that state of life unto which it has pleased Him to 
call them.” 

“ My dear Captain,” I replied, there is such a tremendous 
amount of hard, plain, unpalatable truth in what you have just 
said that I should be further injuring the cause of my client, the 
American woman, by replying to your arguments. I accordingly 
throw up my brief. Have you, by the way, noticed,” continued I, 
how quietly and effectually Mrs. Qark has taken the reins of 
government out of the hands of the Emperor’s sister ? ” 

“ Keziah never held the reins at all,’' replied Dawlish, “ the dear 
old lady is actually afraid even of the housekeeper. She was a 
fish out of water as nominal head of this house, and it cost her, 


230 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

no pang to abdicate and retire into private life^ but here is the 
push returned from that afternoon tea party at the Sawyers’,” and 
as he spoke the three ladies and the two gentlemen entered the 
court. 

“ Give us a whisky and soda, or something,” cried Jim, throw- 
ing himself into an easy chair. “ These vulgar ’Friscan chumps 
give me a tired feeling, with their inquisitive questions and their 
idiotic cackling and tittle-tattle. I couldn’t stand it much longer. 
The women here are dowdy and ill-bred, and the men are mostly 
moneyed cads and boozing bounders.” (This last was an expres- 
sion Jim had picked up in London and which he was fond of 
airing.) 

My wife burst out laughing, and said: “Oh, Mr. Jim” (she 
often called him that to distinguish him from his father), “ how 
unkind and ungrateful of you when all these good folk have been 
petting and lionizing you for the past fortnight.” 

“ They would entertain me far better by leaving me alone, and 
not by turning me into a raree show,” replied Jim.“ Thank God, 
I am married. I would as soon unite myself to an Indian squaw 
as one of those women, who do not know how to talk, dress, eat, 
or walk decently. Why, you, Dora, and your wife. Judge, in this 
motley crowd, look like thoroughbred racers in a mob of mongrel 
Mexican mustangs.” 

“ I am afraid you are inclined to be very uncharitable, Jim 
dear. You will, at least, allow that they are very good-hearted 
people,” said Mrs. Clark. 

This innocent remark of Dora’s only made Bella laugh the more. 
I could see that the Emperor was rapidly becoming rattled, though 
not a Californian by birth, still he had long ere this completely 
identified himself with the great Western State, and had built 
the splendid palace we are residing in with the fond hopes that 
his son would bring his wife (when he had got one) to pass 
most of his time in ’Frisco. He could now see that since his son 
had returned from Europe and had married that he was a changed 
man. The only ones of his former qualities that he seemed to 
still retain were his hardihood and courage. Dora had completely 
tamed and civilized her wild Western husband, and he was also 
quite imbued into European tastes and fancies which had engen- 
dered a dissatisfaction with the customs and ways of his own 
country. Since I considered that I held a general retainer (as we 


The Lawyer Pumps The Secretary. 231 

lawyers say) for the Emperor, I felt obliged to intervene, so I 
said : 

“ I think your opinions are too harsh and one-sided, Jim. 
Are there no ill-bred cads and tasteless women in New York and 
London? From my long experience of the former city, I should 
most decidedly say that they do exist there in considerable num- 
bers, too, and, judging also by certain specimens of well-born 
English people I have come across, I feel convinced that a talented 
author of a new book of snobs would find plenty of material for 
his work in the little village across the water.” 

Dawlish, as junior counsel for the defense, chimed in by saying: 
“ I quite agree with you. Judge, in all that you have said. There 
are no creatures on God’s earth so insufferable as the British snob 
and the British cad, and I am a Britisher who says so. As for 
toadyism, there is more of a certain kind of that weed in London 
than there is in New York, and the dollar is just as almighty in 
the old country as it is in the land of the spread eagle. Person- 
ally during my residence in ’Frisco, I have been the recipient of 
very much kindness and hospitality, and it would ill-become me to 
stand by and not speak up for those who, if they are somewhat 
behind their Eastern brethren in polish and refinement, are away 
ahead of them in sincerity and hospitality.” 

” Bravo, Captain ! ” said the old man, much mollified. “ I wish 
you would instil some of your sensible, clear-headed ideas into the 
head of my son, who, now that he has done Europe, appears to 
take a pleasure in running down the country of his birth, the land 
of the Stars and Stripes, the birthplace of liberty.” 

‘‘ You are slightly off your base there, dear Daddy,” said Dora, 
laughing. “If old England had not fought for and preserved 
the sacred spark of freedom, there mightn’t perhaps have been any 
United States at all.. Did you ever hear of Magna Charta, 
Daddy?” 

“ I think I remember seeing something about it in one of 
the Sunday newspapers, but I forget what they said it was; 
wasn’t it the name of the ship that carried Columbus ? ” said the 
old man in a measured sort of voice. 

This display of abysmal historical ignorance caused us all, in- 
cluding even jim, to laugh unrestrainedly. 

“ I see that I have made a break,” said the old man, good- 
humoredly. “ You shouldn’t lay traps for your old father-in-law, 
Dora.” 


232 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

By the way, sir,” said Dawlish, assisted by my noble friend, 
the Judge, I can report that all the replies to the congratulatory 
correspondence have been completed and despatched, and I am 
arranging to have the more important communications placed in 
suitable glass show-cases in the library as you requested me.” 

“ I am really very much obliged to you, Dawlish, and the Judge, 
too, for all the trouble you two have taken in the matter,” said the 
old man. 

“ Not at all, Mr. Clark/’ replied I ; speaking for myself, it will 
always be a pleasure for me to be of service to you in any way. 
You have made quite a fine collection of autograph letters from 
prominent men of the times over this hold-up business, and the 
cables and wires form quite a remarkable display by themselves.” 

“ Don’t you think, my dear Daddy,” said the fair Dora, going 
up to and kissing her father-in-law, “ that since we are become 
such famous people it will be only right for us to show ourselves 
to our admirers on the other side ? ” 

“ I am sure the King of England and all the big-bugs would 
be too flattered to be introduced to Jim and you, and Bella, and 
I would like so much to be presented at the Queen’s drawing-room, 
and dear Aunt Keziah must come with us.” 

“ No, Dora dear, fond of you as I am, I will not venture across 
at my time of life,” said the spinster, smiling. “ I will stay here 
and take care of the house in your absence, but I can see your 
father-in-law will have to go.” 

“ There’s no resisting this sweet witch/’ said old Clark, ‘‘ she 
will corral me as a British subject next. Have your own way, 
Dora. I give in, but when shall we start, and when shall we 
return ? ” 

“ In answer to the first half of your query, Daddy,” replied 
Dora, “ I reply in three days ; in regard to the last I can only say, 
I don’t know, but I suppose some time or other.” 

“ Hoop la,” said Jim. I shall always get you, Dora, for the 
future to tackle the Governor if I want anything done.” 

'' We must go to Paris first, Dora, and get some frocks,” said 
my wife. 

You bet your sweet life,” replied Mrs. Clark, “but I shall 
get more of my clothes in London. If you go to the right 
dressmakers and exercise your own judgment there, you will be 
dressed just as well as if you did all your business in the fair 
capital of France,” 


The Lawyer Pumps The Secretary. 233 

You and I, Bella, will have to stop off a bit in New York,^’ 
said I, “as I have to clean up my business, and we have to say 
good-by to our friends. I shall transport several of my clerks, 
including Jenkins, to the office here.” 

“ That will be kind,” said my wife. “ I am afraid, dear Dora, 
that this stop-off is a dire necessity; it clean slipped my mind; I 
haven’t a business head like Uriah.” 

“ You have a very pretty one, Bella, that’s more to the purpose. 
I didn’t marry you because I required a law partner,” replied 1. 

“ I think you and your wife would have had a good chance of 
winning the Dunmow flitch. Judge,” said Dora. 

“ What’s that, dear ? ” said my wife. 

“ I have made,” replied Dora, “ a study of old English customs, 
and know all about this particular one, which was, or is (since I 
believe it has been revived of late years), the formal presenting 
on the first of May of each year in the village of Dunmow, in the 
county of Essex, England, of a flitch of bacon to the married 
couple who can lay claim with good reason to not having quar- 
reled once during the first year of their married life, evidence 
being heard to establish or destroy the validity of the claim, and 
this, of course, naturally leads to most amusing scenes in the 
mock court of justice.” 

Neither I or Bella said anything, but we both knew that our 
married life has been a very happy one. Bella and I never had 
any serious differences, and the only thing that we have had to 
deplore in our ten years of wedded bliss is that we have not 
been blessed with any family, though hope in this direction is 
not dead, as I am only forty-five and Bella’s summers are two 
short of thirty. I flatter myself that we both wear well. I 
confess, between myself and my fountain-pen, that I was rather 
surprised at Dora’s easy victory in bringing the Emperor round 
to her way of thinking after making every allowance for the 
great influence she undoubtedly has over him. In spite of all 
his spread-eagle talk, he caved in to-day with remarkable sudden- 
ness. I should like to know the reason — for reason there is. 
The old man’s foible in his vanity, and I think that he secretly 
would be awfully tickled to cut a big figure in London society, as 
undoubtedly he will, as the three Clarks will be the lions of the 
next London season as sure as I am writing up this diary. But 
there is something even behind this. He has hinted to me mys- 
teriously several times of late about a set of aluminum automo-» 


234 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

biles he is having constructed somewhere, probably at Pittsburg, 
and the other day he was deploring the fact that the roads in 
California were not so good as they might be, and wished that 
we had the English or French Macadam over here. He may be 
contemplating an auto tour in the old country. So, in reality he 
is probably rejoiced at being willingly dragged in Dora’s train 
across the Atlantic. I wonder if this solution of the problem 
will turn out to be correct. Who knows ? What does it matter ! 
Kismet, Bismillah. 


The Terrace Of The Commons. 


235 


PART II. 

TURNED TABLES. 

Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, 

Hath not old custom made this life more sweet. 

Than that of painted pomp, are not these woods 
More free from peril than the envious Court ? 

— As You Like Act, II., S. i. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE TERRACE OF THE COMMONS. 

It is about six o’clock in the afternoon of a warm day in 
the third week of May, 1921. The scene is the river terrace of 
the House of Commons, London. The day had been sultry, 
but there is always a little breeze playing around on the bosom 
of old Father Thames. From this vantage spot one can see to 
the left the noble Westminster Bridge, second only in beauty to 
the elegant structure built to commemorate the decisive battle 
of Waterloo, and which latter has the proud distinction of having 
attracted the great sculptor Canova from Rome, for the sole 
purpose of viewing its symmetrical proportions, and the classical 
curvature of its arches. Facing the Houses of Parliament, the 
six huge well-built blocks, that constitute the mammoth hospital of 
St. Thomas, show up to great advantage, and beyond these, on 
the right, nestling among the surrounding trees, is Lambeth Palace, 
the modest town residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, with 
the interesting Lollard’s Tower adjacent to it, the dark scene of 
medieval religious persecution. The division bell has just rung 
and the four hundred more or less of legislators had betaken 


236 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

themselves indoors to record their votes, the vast majority of 
these honorable gentlemen being only regarded by the leaders 
of their respective parties as mere animated voting machines. As 
for offering their individual opinions, they are, for the most 
part, not required to give them in any other form. A certain 
clique of members habitually occupy the floor alternately on either 
side of the House; they do the talking, the others the listening, 
voting, sleeping, eating, drinking, reading, and, last but not least, 
flirting; facilities for all these functions being provided for the 
people’s representatives in profusion by a considerate government, 
with the result of the House of Commons obtaining the well- 
earned soubriquet of “ the best club in London.” As for the 
chances of airing their eloquence, most of the members do not 
get beyond their maiden speeches, many not even so far as that 
preliminary stage, to the disgust of their perfervid constituents, 
who are deceived by the confident fluency of the aspirants for their 
suffrages surrounded by a crowd of applauding and encouraging 
friends, clients, and toadies. It is strange how dumb, nervous, 
and tongue-tied some parochial windbags become when they have 
to address the speaker before a coldly critical, slightly caustic 
audience. How often have we seen a rural Demosthenes, or some 
Bombastes Furioso, in the shape of a workingman’s candidate 
shorn of his eloquence, helplessly fumbling with and mixing in 
inextricable confusion in his silk hat the carefully elaborated notes 
of that speech that was to reverberate throughout the Empire, and 
cause the terror-stricken members of an invertebrate Cabinet to 
tremble in their shoes, and finally after twenty minutes of discon- 
nected, impotent drivel, the nerveless wretch is ruthlessly coughed 
down, his ambitious dream dispelled and his tin-horn reputation 
hopelessly shattered. In the Peers’ chamber it is widely differ- 
ent ; removed from the fierce rough and tumble competition that 
prevails in the lower house, their lordships conduct their attenuated 
debates in a serene atmosphere of otiose, well-bred dignity. Yet 
the potential eloquence of these titled senators, many of whom 
have been elevated from the Commons as a reward for the display 
of distinguished ability, and of meritorious public service, is gen- 
erally more ornate, vigorous, and polished, and their collective 
wisdom infinitely more commanding and unbiased than that 
evoked by the clash and din of party strife in the neighboring 
assembly. There is practically only one party in the House of 
Lords, a rampant radicalism as well as a lively liberalism seem 


The Terrace Of The Commons. 237 

both equally to droop, wither, and shrivel up, in the presence 
of a sedate, if somewhat stagnant spirit of conversation. But to 
return to the terrace of the Commons, shorn for the moment of 
its crowd of budding Disraelis, and possible, if not probable, Glad- 
stones. Out of the many groups of deliciously gowned women, 
mingled with gallant and distinguished men, who sit laughing 
and chatting around the various tea tables on the commodious 
area, one only will interest us to the exclusion of any other. In 
the center of this coterie Dora Clark holds her court in a ravish- 
ing toilet of oyster white cr^e de chine. Near her are her hus- 
band, old man Clark, and Canon Leighton, with his daughter 
Annie. The ecclesiastic has a pompous and prosperous air, and 
beams upon his now idolized niece just as a petted Angora Grimal- 
kin reposing on his velvet cushion at some fashionable cat show, 
and purring loud in supreme content, might look up with half- 
closed eyes at his kind mistress, who, having supplied her favorite 
with a saucer of the richest cream, is gently stroking his long- 
haired pampered carcass. Annie Leighton, a graceful pretty girl, 
evidently chic and refined, sits next her father. Her figure is 
nearly perfect, and if her features are slightly irregular, and lack 
the classical perfection of Dora’s, still one forgets this slight 
blemish when her face is lighted up with a merry rippling smile as 
it frequently is. Annie is away ahead of her sisters in everything, 
and has lately become her father’s chief companion. The two elder 
girls have never really forgiven their sire for the terrible back- 
handed blow he had administered to each of them, as previously 
related, and consoled themselves in the society of their narrow- 
minded mother. Birds of a feather flock together, and this well- 
assorted trio passed most of their time, not devoted to petty 
parish and society functions, to the pleasant occupation of slan- 
dering their neighbors and in the acrimonious ventilation of their 
mutual wrongs. 

Captain Dawlish had to remain behind in ’Frisco to attend 
to some private matters of his Principal, but had orders to rejoin 
the party (as soon as he got through) in London, as the old 
man felt quite lost without his faithful secretary. 

It will be remembered that we left the Clarks at Aluminum 
House, San Francisco, just preparing for their European trip. 
They did not linger long in the States, a day or two each at 
New Orleans, St. Augustine, Fla., and Washington were spent 
en route, and then a big White Star liner conveyed them across 


238 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

the herring pond. Mr. and Mrs. Slocum remained behind in New 
York to enable the former to settle up his business prior to 
devoting himself exclusively to his duties as the old man’s general 
business director. But he and his wife were under strict orders 
to rejoin the Clarks at their earliest possible convenience. Dora 
knew right well that her now bosom friend would be bewailing 
every day of the London season that she m^issed. On their arrival 
at Liverpool the Clarks went straight through to Paris, stopping 
off for a week in the French Metropolis to allow Dora to order a 
number of bewitching toilets at M. Felix, and then a move was 
made to Monte Carlo, and in a very brief time Mrs. Clark was 
acknowledged as the queen of beauty at the world’s great gam- 
bling resort. It is needless to say that Jim and Dora, after their 
late sensational adventures, were all the go. Dora allowed Jim to 
amuse himself at the tables, and he and his father together suc- 
ceeded in twice breaking the bank at trente et quarante. 

The old man’s London agent had in the meanwhile succeeded in 
securing for him, at a big figure, the remainder of the lease of one 
of the finest houses in Park Lane rendered vacant by the sudden 
death of a South African multi-millionaire, and by the first week 
in May the three Clarks were duly installed in their town 
residence. 

Dora had not yet favored Canterbury with her presence, she 
postponed the celebration of her triumphal entry into that city until 
the close of the season, but she graciously received her now 
obsequious relations, and with a rare and tactful magnanimity 
wiped away from the tablets of her memory all records of an 
uncomfortable past. 

“ Oh, Jim dear,” said Dora, “ do you think Bella and her hus- 
band are really in town ? The ‘ Titanic ’ arrived last night in 
Liverpool.” 

“ Well, pet, all I can say is,” replied her husband, “ that they 
must be on their way here, as we left word at the house as to our 
whereabouts, and Slocum sent me a ’phone just now from Park 
Lane. That’s what made me disappear an hour ago. I thought at 
first I would keep it dark as a surprise.” 

“ Well, I guess,” said old man Clark, “ there’s no surprise party 
can beat that one at the Waldorf-Astoria when I found that Dora 
was married to my son. It was pretty rough on me, eh, Canon ? ” 
said the old man, addressing Dora’s uncle. 

” In honor of the valor displayed by the inhabitants of my 


The Terrace Of The Commons. 


239 


county, sir,” replied the church dignitary, who was fond of 
airing his historical knowledge, ” the Saxon kings of England used 
to march to battle with a banner, on which was depicted the 
fighting man of Kent, and this was the flag under which the gal- 
lant Harold and his equally gallant Kentish Housecarles met their 
deaths on the fatal field of Senlac, and it has since formed part 
of the county’s armorial bearings, but I think this should be 
changed to the conquering ladies of Kent, for before the bright 
eyes of our Kentish dames many a noble American gentleman 
has gone down, and the most notable victory of all seem to have 
been achieved by my fair niece here.” 

At that moment three persons were seen approaching. In a 
moment Dora arose and ran to meet them. ” My dearest Bella, 
how glad I am to see you,” cried she. “ I thought that you and 
your overworked husband were never coming, and, Mr. Slocum, 
how delightful to see you again, and can I believe my eyes, the 
dear rector, too ? ” 

“ Yes, it is his reverence,” replied Mrs. Slocum. “ Uriah and I 
at last persuaded him to cross the pond. He has not had a holiday 
for ever so long. His wife resolutely refused to come, as she is 
a shockingly bad sailor, so the rector is here en bachelor. But, my 
sweet Dora, how perfectly divine you look.” 

“ I can return the compliment Bella dear,” replied Dora, and 
Mrs. Slocum did indeed look her best in a princess dress of striped 
foulard silk. 

“ Yes, Mrs. Clark,” said the rector, “ this good lady and her 
husband induced me to take a holiday and cross the Atlantic with 
them, and, to tell the truth, I did not require much persuasion, as 
your bright eyes are quite strong enough magnets to attract a man 
three thousand miles away, but I have here a missive which I 
have no doubt v/ill give you great pleasure in perusing,” handing, 
as he spoke, a letter to Dora, which she opened, just scanned, and 
then put in her pocket, saying as she did so : “I am equally 
obliged, dear rector, for your gilt-edged compliment, and for this 
welcome epistle, but what your wife would have said, if she had 
been standing here, and had heard the former, I don’t know. But, 
Bella, you would have laughed this afternoon,” continued Dora 
(after the necessary introductions had been effected), “I took 
Daddy Clark down to Clapham to pay a visit to my deaf aunt ; I 
noticed that the green parrot had disappeared, and I shrewdly 
suspect that my cousin Annie here has killed it, because parrots 


240 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

never seem to die a natural death, and she (Annie) took my 
place when I went away with that gentleman ” (pointing to Jim) 
“ to New York. Now, honor bright, Annie,” said Dora, laugh- 
ing, ” aren’t you a murderess? I promise not to tell the old lady.” 

“ You are right, Dora,” replied her cousin, “ I confess to having 
committed the awful crime. The parrot bit my finger as it did 
yours, and so distracted my nerves with its very realistic attempts 
to imitate the whistle of a railway locomotive that I was compelled, 
in order to preserve my sanity, to administer poison.” 

“ I don’t blame you, my dear,” said the Canon. “ What with 
birds, beasts, and reptiles, that house is simply unendurable to any 
one except to the keeper of a menagerie or of a dime museum.” 
The fact is, the worthy ecclesiastic, since his niece’s golden mar- 
riage, had ceased to trouble himself concerning the disposition 
of the old lady’s small fortune, and all of his three daughters had 
of late flatly refused to go near the place. 

” Poor auntie,” said Dora. “ She is deafer than ever, and 
Daddy Clark shouted himself hoarse through her ear trumpet, 
when he should have spoken in quite a low tone, and finding that 
auntie did not understand him, he reversed the instrument and 
converted it into a megaphone, with unsatisfactory results. I am 
afraid that Daddy did not get very far in his flirtation with the 
poor old deserted maiden.” 

“ I should have to invest in some patent spongy iron lungs,” said 
the millionaire, “ if I did. But just fancy my sweet Dora having 
ever been worried out of her life by that old fossil.” 

“Dora is not yours, pa; she is mine,” said Jim. “You are 
continually making that break.” 

“ Now, that’s too bad,” replied the old man. “ I will stake out 
at least one claim in the property anyway ; I won’t let you have 
this Eldorado in petticoats all to yourself ; it isn’t a square deal.” 

“ Now, don’t quarrel, you two,” said Dora. “ Really, Mr. 
Slocum, isn’t it awful, a father and son fighting over the same 
lady?” 

“ Well, Mrs. Clark, if you ask me,” replied Slocum, laughing, 
“ I consider that your father-in-law has had precious hard lines. 
He considers that Jim jumped his claim.” 

“ And so he did,” said the old man, “ and Jim looks at me like 
a Californian lion when I steal a single kiss ; it’s too bad, too bad.’^ 

“ Beware the green-eyed monster, Mr. Jim, as the great Will has 
it,” said Mrs. Slocum. 


The Terrace Of The Commons. 


241 


“ I don’t know who the great Will may be,” replied Jim, whose 
knowledge of Shakespeare was on a level with his ignorance of 
the Bible, “ but I should advise him to keep his green-eyed monster 
from cavorting around after Dora, unless the said monster is 
bullet proof, or I will put half a dozen pieces of lead into him 
before he knows he is corpsed, and pa would chime in pretty quick 
with his gun. Wouldn’t you, pa?” 

“ You bet I would, Jim,” replied his sire, ‘‘ and in less than 
five seconds we’d have that monster as full of holes as a sieve.” 
A gentle ripple of restrained, well-bred merriment went round the 
circle. 

“ Well, you all may laugh,” said Jim, “ but I mean it. Pa and 
I are doers, not talkers.” 

Both the men seemed rather surprised that the laughter rather 
augmented than subsided. And Dora thought she ought to try 
and relieve them from their embarrassment, by saying : 

“ My dearest Jim, this green-eyed monster is only the poetical 
way William Shakespeare has of expressing his idea of jealousy. 
Mrs. Slocum merely meant to warn you against being too jealous, 
that’s all. But nevertheless I fully appreciate, I assure you, the 
privilege and advantage of being protected by two such skilled 
gunners ; I shall always feel so safe for the future. You need 
not be in the least afraid of any man or monster cavorting (as 
you say) after me; your reputation as a pistol-shot is world- 
wide. But, Jim dear, it will be time for us to go directly, as we 
have to get home to dress for that dinner at the Savoy. So, if 
you good people will excuse us for a few minutes, I want to read 
to my husband in private the letter (from a very dear mutual 
friend) which the rector has just handed to me, so come along, 
Jim dear, and we will peruse it together, in that recess of the 
terrace parapet over there, and you will soon forget all about 
green-eyed monsters and such silly talk.” And Dora led away her 
obedient spouse, and when they were seated, she said merrily: 
“ Really, Jim, I shall have to get yooi to come to my school on 
week days, as well as Sundays ; we will read Shakespeare, and 
all sorts of other things. Won’t we, dear? ” 

“ I will do anything you like, darling,” replied Jim. “ I should 
learn at no end of a rate with you as school marm ; I know I am 
beastly ignorant, and poor pa knows even less than I do, so we 
are always making these bad breaks. What a lucky thing it is 
that T have such a clever little duck of a wife.” 


242 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

“ A pretty big duck,” replied Dora ; “ remember I am only three 
inches shorter than you, darling, and weigh over 150 pounds; it 
will be more correct to call me a solan goose.” 

“ No, pet,” replied her husband, “ you are a real live canvas- 
backed duck ; that is the best bird in the universe.” 

' ” Some people might call me,” replied Dora, “ a red-headed 

duck. The two kinds are about alike.” 

” I am sure your hair is not red,” replied Jim ; “ it is the 
loveliest golden auburn.” 

” You are becoming quite a skilled flatterer,” replied Dora, 
laughing. ” But now to business,” and she commenced reading 
the letter, which was from the Mother Superior of the Mercy 
House. 

“ My dear Lady Cognita : 

“ The rector told me he is going to Europe, and would see you 
in England, so I thought you might like to have him give you a 
letter from me, rather than it should be sent through the mail. 
You will be glad to hear that our hospital is booming. Do you 
know, your noble father-in-law sent me another splendid donation 
of $150,000 three weeks ago, to make up his contribution, as he 
said, to a round half million? Wasn’t it grand of him? So we 
are quite rich. The new wing is begun, and we all feel so much 
relieved and delighted at having got rid of our money troubles. 
Most of the friction and worries of life proceed from having too 
much, or too little, of the circulating medium, generally the latter. 
I hope you, your husband, and Mr. Clark senior will have a good 
time in the old country, and that in the midst of your gayeties and 
pleasures you will sometimes cast a thought in the direction of 
the Mercy House on Second Street, New York City, where the 
prayers of the holy sisters are always going up to the throne of 
grace on behalf of you and yours. With my kindest regards and 
best wishes to Mr. Smith, alias Mr. Fletcher, alias Mr. James 
Clark, and to your excellent father-in-law, not forgetting Mr. and 
Mrs. Slocum, believe me, dear Lady Cognita, ever yours most 
sincerely, 

“ Alice, Mother Superior. 

“ P. S. — Sister Agnes and I always wear our gold crosses ; they 
are the only bits of vanity we have got, and we value them above 
all price.” 

“Isn’t that a sweet letter, Jim?” said Dora, carefully folding 


The Terrace Of The Commons. 


243 


up the epistle and placing it in her pocket. ‘‘ What a charming 
saint she is, and loves her hit of fun, too. I am so glad the bishop 
allowed them to keep their crosses, but perhaps they didn’t ask 
his permission after all.” 

“ I wonder,” said Jim, meditatively, “ if those boss saints you 
talk to me about on Sunday ever had a good time on the quiet. 
From what you have told me, life with them must have been like 
being in church and Sunday-school all the time with nary a let up. 
They never seemed to have a bear hunt, or a scrap, or a quiet 
game of straight poker, or even a good hearty laugh after the 
day’s work, when sitting round their camp-fires with their pipes 
in their mouths. But they may have had all those things, but 
it would not have done, I suppose, to have said anything about 
them in the Bible. It would have been a dead, give away, so 
they were always described as going about in boiled shirts and 
good clothes, talking sentences taken out of copy-books.” 

“ You’ve got some queer notions, Jim,” said Dora, laughing. 
“ But you are partly right ; every one in the Bible seems entirely 
deficient in humor, except old Samson, and he was always getting 
into trouble. They all seem too much in earnest to ever have a 
good laugh. I suppose they had no time for frivolity, though 
many of the very best and holiest men of modern times have been 
endowed with a keen sense of humor. But, Jim dear,” said she, 
“ I have a notion to get you and Daddy Clark to help me in the 
work I shall start when we are back in our Western home, of 
assisting and relieving the outcasts and destitute. I can never 
forget my own dreadful (but as it may prove) salutary experi- 
ence. You have told me there is a shocking amount of misery in 
’Frisco. We have made a good beginning with the New York 
Mercy House, a great blessing waits of such work, and our lives 
and wealth should not be devoted entirely to the pursuit of pleas- 
ure.” 

“ Your wishes shall ever be mine, dearest,” replied her hus- 
band, “ and I know that old Daddy will do anything in the world 
to please you. I don’t deserve such an angel as you to keep me 
right.” 

He and Dora sat for a few minutes hand in hand, watching 
the rays of the western sun gilding the dark gliding waters of 
the famous river. Their hearts were too full for words. She 
felt what a blessed work she might be the means of achieving, 
backed by such colossal wealth, and he knew well that he had 


244 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

gained what all his dollars could not have purchased, the perfect 
unwavering affection of a good, pure, true-hearted woman. 

“We must join the others again now,” said Dora. Jim started 
as if aroused from a reverie. “ What were you thinking of, 
dear? ” said Dora, as they were strolling back to rejoin their party. 

“ I was thinking of the Mercy House and the Mother Superior, 
and how thankful we ought to be that we are both of us alive 
and well to-day,” said Jim. 

“ You are indeed right, dear,” replied Dora. “ I sometimes 
think that the most heartfelt prayers are not always those 
repeated parrot-like in church. It is the unstudied, unsyllabled 
supplication rising spontaneously, like incense from the altar 
of a grateful heart, that must be the most acceptable to our 
Heavenly Father.” 

“ Well, my dear,” said old man Clark, “ that must be an 
interesting letter; it took you two some time to talk over its 
contents.” 

“ It is from one who is very dear to us all,” said Dora. “ She 
throws some bouquets at you, dear Daddy,” handing as she spoke 
the letter to her father-in-law. 

“ The lady who wrote that must have had an interesting past 
history; some severe disappointment, I guess,” said Slocum. 

“ She may have had a past history,” said Dora, “ but without 
it neither Jim, nor I, would probably have had a present or a 
future one for the matter of that.” 

“ Where are your traps. Rector? ” said old man Clark. 

“ At Claridge’s Hotel,” replied the cleric. 

“ Then they will have to be sent to my shanty in Park Lane,” 
replied the old man. “ You are my guest as long as you remain 
on this side, and I wish you. Rector, and your wife could come 
and live with us altogether. Then my establishment would be 
complete; that is, when I have secured a family medico.” 

“And the Mother Superior?” put in Mrs. Slocum. 

“ Daddy will be wanting to marry her if she did,” said Dora, 
laughing. 

“ Well, they could be legally spliced,” said the lawyer. “ The 
laws of th.e United States do not recognize the validity of monas- 
tic vows.” 

^ “ That may be all right,” said Jim, “ but I vow that I am get- 
ting pretty hungry.” 

“ Oh^ Jim dear, there is really no romance in you after all,” 


The Terrace Of The Commons. 245 

said Dora, laughing. Fancy your breaking in in this way like 
a cyclone on the pretty discussion about your father’s possible 
marriage to the Mother Superior.” 

“ I am content to remain a poor solitary widower, and watch 
over the happiness of these two young things,” said the old 
. man, linking his arms in those of Jim and Dora, as they started 
to leave the terrace. 


246 


A 20th Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER II. 

SECRETS OF SOCIAL SUCCESS. 

Nearly six weeks had elapsed since the tea party on the Com- 
mons Terrace. This six weeks had been for the Clark party, rein- 
forced by the lawyer and his wife, a ceaseless feverish round of 
gaiety and pleasure. To Dora this period had been a long drawn 
out ever-increasing triumph. 

From the very first she seemed almost without an effort to 
take her place as one of the queens of society. In a few weeks 
she achieved far more than an ordinarily brilliant woman gifted 
with the same advantages as she had would have taken years 
to accomplish. 

Of course, it is evident that Dora’s wonderful beauty, the 
romantic episodes of her recent life, her diamonds and dresses, her 
husband’s prowess, her father-in-law’s enormous wealth, and the 
princely way with which he dispensed it, combined to make it 
certain that the Clarks were bound to figure as the lions of the 
season. But it is one thing to take English society by storm 
and another to retain a position so captured. Nothing is usually 
more transitory or even more illusory than social success. What 
is required more than anything else to insure a permanent place 
in society for newcomers is woman’s beauty, wit, tact, and kindli- 
ness, and these Dora supplied in abundant measure. From time 
to time at sufficiently rare intervals leaders of men make their ap- 
pearances on the world’s stage. These have not infrequently been 
women. We have all of us read of Zenobia, the Queen of the 
East; of Cleopatra, who enslaved successively each of the mem- 
bers of the great Roman Triumvirate; of the three ladies who 
at one and the same time at the beginning of the eighteenth cen- 
tury controlled the destinies of their respective countries — Eng- 
land, France, and Russia — and therefore collectively of Europe. I 
could quote many other instances of woman’s power; suffice it to 
say that when beauty, brains, and discretion are combined with a 


Secrets Of Social Success. 


247 


love of sway in the person of the same charming female, and 
when, moreover, this terribly potent combination is allied with 
practically unbounded wealth, then it is difficult to set limits to 
the power for good or ill this same charming female may accom- 
plish. It all depends on the question whether she is a noble, 
good, high-principled woman like Dora Clark or the reverse. 

To see Dora in all her glory was to see her receiving her 
guests at a great “ At Home ” in her father-in-law’s splendid 
Park Lane mansion. Her salons were attended by the greatest 
and noblest in the land. She captured all hearts by her winning 
manner, her cleverness, and inspired perception. She conciliated 
her defeated rivals and went out of her way to make friends of 
them. 

She never lost her dignity, at the same time never was con- 
descending ; she possessed the art to perfection of making people 
pleased with themselves and of bringing into prominence their 
good qualities, at the same time seeming to forget their bad 
ones. She cultivated the science (for science it is) of making 
each individual guest feel as if she was particularly interested 
in his or her affairs. She was extremely well informed on gen- 
eral subjects, and was remarkably well posted in economics, 
sociology, modern history, and statistics, and besides, she knew 
how to pick up and assimilate scraps of current information. So 
a Cabinet Minister might leave her side impressed with the notion 
that the brilliant Mrs. Clark was in the habit of studying Parlia- 
mentary blue books, while to a city magnate she appeared as 
one who passed her time in perusing the Times Money Article. 
At one moment she would be learnedly discussing the subject of 
the housing of the poor with that celebrated philanthropist, the 
Earl of Bermondsey, and in another she would be giving her opin- 
ion upon some disputed point of dress with the Countess, the said 
Earl’s frivolous and worldly-minded spouse. In a word, Dora 
more than obeyed St. Paul’s advice by being all things, not only 
to all men, but to all women, too ; but her most admirable victory 
seemed to be this, that she could bring all types of men to her 
feet without alienating the affections of members of her own sex. 

Old man Clark was at first rather crushed and scared by having 
to meet so many great people, but gradually recovered confidence 
and took good care to have elaborate accounts of his fair daugh- 
ter-in-law’s (and therefore of his own) social success^es chronicled 
in the San Francisco newspapers, and he duly impressed such of 


248 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

his Californian friends who called upon him in London with the 
fact that he was now become a very big bug indeed. 

It has been mentioned that Dora was on both sides aristocratic- 
ally connected. Her maternal relatives, who had indignantly 
turned their back on her mother, now hastened to make their 
peace with the daughter, and united their good offices with those 
of her uncle, Canon Leighton, with the result that many of the 
best houses in London opened their doors at once to the Clarks 
on their arrival in town. 

Dora and her dear friend, Bella Slocum, were both presented at 
the last of the Queen’s May drawing-rooms. And then the beau- 
tiful Mrs. Clark became the talk of the town. The American 
colony in London went wild with excitement when it became 
known that the Queen had kissed her on her presentation, a mark 
of favor only hitherto accorded to peeresses or their eldest daugh- 
ters. Dora speedily became the rage, her pictures were sold by 
thousands, her dresses were copied, and society people scrambled 
for invitations to her parties. 

Amid this whirlwind of adulation most young women of Dora’s 
age and inexperience would have lost their heads, but she showed 
that she possessed self-command and stability of character both 
in a high degree. She never put the least side on (using a current 
slang expression) ; she never gave herself airs, but was always 
the genuine, kind, warm-hearted lady in her conduct to poor and 
rich alike. To the former she was Lady Bountiful herself, and 
was ever foremost in the planning of good works. It is true she 
had the purse of Fortunatus to help her, but so have others with- 
out doing a tithe what she did. Amid all her multitudinous en- 
gagements and calls upon her time, she managed to set apart a 
portion of each morning for the consideration of philanthropic and 
charitable work. In all she did, she was ably seconded by her 
now bosom friend, Mrs. Slocum. The two were inseparable. 
The lawyer’s wife constituted herself as Mrs. Clark’s confidential 
woman of business. 

Under Dora’s genial supervision she controlled the Park Lane 
household ; issued cards of invitation and made appointments with 
dressmakers and other business people, and generally planed off 
for the queen (as she called Dora) the rough edges of her social 
duties. 

On one subject Mrs. Clark and her ally concentrated all the 
intellectual powers they jointly and severally possessed, and that 


Secrets Of Social Success. 


249 


was the all-important (from a feminine point of view) question of 
dress. They at first formed a committee of two, but gradually a 
select few of the leaders of fashion were admitted one by one into 
their confidence, and a regular society was formed called the 
“ Suitable Dress Association,” its raison d’etre being an organ- 
ized revolt against the tyranny of fashion. The members pledged 
themselves not to be swayed in their choice of garments by the 
style that might happen to be in vogue, but that each woman 
should attire herself in the manner which seemed in her own delib- 
erate opinion and in that of her friends to be best suited to her 
own particular make. 

For instance, a woman with an irreproachable figure might in- 
dulge in close-fitting princess’ gowns, anoither not so royally 
endowed might aifect the full skirt, blouse, and Eton jacket, and 
so on. Having found out through the candid criticism of her 
friends the style which might be best adapted to her, of course it 
would be only commonly prudent to continue that particular style, 
irrespective of what the prevailing fashion might be. What is 
meat for one is another’s poison. A costume that on one lady 
might invest her with the graces of a Venus might on another 
turn the unfortunate into a cheap guy. Nothing is more becom- 
ing on a trimly-made figure than a tailor-made costume with 
tight-fitting coat. But how ludicrous and unseemly it appears on 
the person of a 200-pound matron quivering with adipose matter 
like a mold of calves’ foot jelly. 

In primitive times people covered, or partially covered, their 
bodies for two elementary reasons : decency and warmth; in due 
course two other reasons intruded themselves, namely, that of 
accentuating good points and of concealing defects. 

Now, suposing a style in vogue, for instance, that of tight 
eelskin-like skirts, that can only possibly suit not more than one 
woman in ten; it must follow that the enormous majority of the 
followers of this particular fashion will be badly and inharmoni- 
ously attired. 

It was thus the object of the Suitable Dress Association to weld 
together a formidably strong body of sensible women among the 
leaders of society whose action would soon give a bias to the 
public taste. 

As was to be supposed, the dressmakers and designers made a 
tremendous kick as they acquired a good deal of their profits by 
the yearly change of fashion, since it was evident that a woman 


250 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

would not require so many gowns who generally dressed in one 
particular style. Yet in spite of the determined opposition of 
the professionals, the association continually increased in fame, 
numbers, and influence. 

Dora and Mrs. Slocum were soon distinguished as two of the 
best dressed women in town, and they figured respectively as 
very active members on the committee of the association. Dora 
in the natural course of events would have been elected as presi- 
dent, but she had the tact to decline this, however, and to nom- 
inate a certain noble duchess of immense social influence to that 
important part. Dora, who was the power behind the throne, 
made a friend for life in the duchess, and was extolled for her 
self-effacement, which vastly increased (if that were possible) her 
popularity. 

She, of course, had a great advantage in being an English- 
woman. Her defeated rivals did not feel the sting of having been 
worsted by a countrywoman of theirs so much as if she had been 
a foreigner. The domestic labors of the two ladies were consid- 
erably lightened by not having to attend to the elaboration of 
the dinner menus. They were relieved of the performance of this 
onerous duty by Mr. Slocum, who denied to women the posses- 
sion of the creative faculty, and maintained that dinners con- 
ceived by the feminine intellect necessarily lack originality, and 
would not stand the test of the higher criticism. 

The lawyer, in his character of chief vizier to the millionaire, 
religiously set apart a stated portion of each morning to secret 
cabals with the two French chefs, and the fruits of this scheming 
was in evidence continually, and soon the fame of the Clark din- 
ners became almost European. To attain a lasting niche in the 
hearts of English society, the entertainers’ food and drink must 
both be irreproachable. 

It matters not at a London ball if the floor, the flowers, the 
music, the maidens, and matrons are perfection if, at the same 
time, the food and champa^e at supper are poor in quality. But 
reversing the order of things, if the two latter are O. K. the 
guests will readily forgive great shortcomings in the former. 

The nearest road to an Englishman’s and (I say it with fear 
and trembling, as it is my experience that ladies are not indifferent 
to the creature comforts of this life) an Englishwoman’s heart lies 
through the stomach. 

It is really the cliques of leading clubmen who rule London 


Secrets Of Social Success. 


251 


society. They can damn with faint praise aspiring actors and 
actresses, tear to pieces with the merciless tongues of cruel slander, 
whilom spotless reputations, bring fame and fortune or the reverse 
to literary lions, or crush forever the budding aspirations of the 
seeker after admittance into smart society. 

Neither Dora’s beauty, nor her father-in-law’s millions, would 
have insured complete social success if the latter’s champagne had 
been indifferent. But Mr. Clark’s reputation was in safe hands. 
What the Judge did not know about wine was not worth knowing; 
he had absolute carte blanche from the old man, and gradually 
stocked his patron’s cellar with choice bins of the most famous 
vintages. 

To be asked to take pot luck at Mr. Clark’s table on an off 
day was looked upon as a serious privilege, and the millionaire’s 
Park Lane mansion was regarded by the gourmets as the resi- 
dence of one of the high priests of gastronomy. And whenever 
in Pall Mall an uncharitable remark was made at the expense 
of the Californian Croesus, the author of the remark was met 
with such a retort as, “ Oh, you are shirty, old man, because old 
Clark has never asked you to dine.” Which probably being the 
truth, effectually silenced the guns of the grumbler and caused 
him to dry up. How was it possible to abuse a man who tickled 
your palate and studied your taste? Champagne and claret in 
magnums of exactly the right vintages, brands, and bouquet dis- 
arm criticism. How is it possible for the veriest churl to figura- 
tively throw rocks at a man at whose table he has guzzled and 
swilled without the grim specter hovering over him in the shape 
of a retributory headache next morning? 

And then the cigars and coffee. No Arab Sheik ever pictured 
to himself such quintessences in his much-longed for Mahometan 
Paradise. 

Thus relieved of all the mental drudgery as to detail, that in 
an army, a business, or a large household goes so far towards • 
commanding success, old man Clark had little to do but to look 
good, talk pleasant, and draw checks. He recreated himself by 
driving during the early hours one of his 2-minute 5-second pacers 
in his American buggy round Hyde Park, whereby he came into 
collision with the police and was charged with furious driving. 
But he found by experience that the men in blue were not inac- 
cessible to bribes. So having systematically taken all the Hyde 
Park guardians of the peace into his pay, he was allowed to amuse 


252 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

himself and exercise his horses unmolested. He also rode in 
Rotten Row on horseback with Jim and Dora, raced about the 
suburbs on fleet electric automobiles, and occasionally tooled his 
four-in-hand coach down to Hurlingham, Richmond, or Hampden 
Court. He attended many society functions and basked in Dora’s 
smiles, but these functions were nevertheless rather a source of 
weariness to the old man. 

He could not help being aware that a great deal of his impor- 
tance came to him from the fact that he was Dora’s father-in- 
law, but nevertheless he had modest triumphs of his own. People 
began to realize that this was the man who had revolutionized 
one of the great industries of the world. Though not the actual 
inventor, he it was who had by his courage and industry exploited 
the grand discovery which had made real airships possible, that 
had allowed armor for battle-ships to be constructed that was 
practically invulnerable to any kind of projectiles, and in a thou- 
sand ways had alleviated the ordinary labors of common men 
and women by lightening the necessary implements and utensils 
of every-day use. Thus he was gratified by receiving attentions 
from eminent men of science, and was greatly tickled by being 
made a fellow of the Royal Institution and a Knight of the Legion 
of Honor. 

As for Jim, he did not socially meet with the fate of so many 
husbands of reigning beauties, who sink into well-merited ob- 
livion and are known merely as the husbands of their wives — 
necessary appendages ; nothing more. No! Jim Clark had a dis- 
tinct personality of his own. The summary wiping out of the 
bandits had invested his name with a lurid halo, that commanded 
at least profound respect. Men were afraid to pay any attentions 
to the fair Dora beyond the barest commonplace civilities for fear 
that their motives might be misinterpreted by this terrible man- 
killing Westerner. He (Jim) took the keenest pleasure in ac- 
companying his glorious bride to endless events and balls, and re- 
joiced in the homage that was her meed. But his was the chival- 
rous devotion of the knight for his ladylove, and not in order to 
gratify his personal inclinations. 

There was only one woman in the world for him now ; all the 
beautiful titled dames he was introduced to were nothing to him 
more than a lot of well-dressed and much be jeweled dolls. He 
was a poor dancer, and no great shakes at society talk, and he 
would much have preferred to be in a cozy smoking-room playing 


Secrets Of Social Success. 


253 


a rubber or a quiet game of straight poker with some of his 
pals than standing in tight shoes in a corner of a crowded ball- 
room or a still more crowded at home, feeling dreadfully 
bored, answering inane questions of simpering dames who dis- 
played the usual profound British ignorance of the United States 
of America, of their size and cities, and of the manners and cus- 
toms of their inhabitants. 

Occasionally he would take an evening oi¥, and in company of 
the Judge, his father, and of a few select male friends indulge in 
a stag dinner, finishing up with a music hall and a bit of supper 
afterwards at the Savoy or some other well-known resort. He 
took great interest in the turf and attended most of the important 
racing features of Newmarket, Epsom, and elsewhere. 

He occasionally paid a flying visit to Glasgow to inspect the 
progress that his grand new steam yacht was making towards 
completion. 

I may say here that since the time we last saw our party on 
the terrace of the House of Commons, the rector of Trinity had 
stayed for a week in Park Lane with the Clarks, and then had 
crossed the Channel on a short European tour, promising to rejoin 
his friends later on. 

During the residence of the Clark party in Park Lane, Can- 
terbury did not see much of Canon Leighton. He was generally 
together with one, sometimes two, of his daughters zealously en- 
gaged in dancing attendance on the millionaire and his (the 
Canon’s) beautiful niece. Old man Clark took a great fancy to 
the ecclesiastic, who made himself extremely useful to him at the 
art sales of Messrs. Christy and Manson. The Canon was a 
virtuoso and a great judge of painting, china, and bric-a-brac, and 
under his judicious advice the Park Lane house became the rest- 
ing-place of many a splendid chef d'oeuvre. Besides this, the 
Canon, who, if not a great scholar, made a plausible show of 
sound learning, was a man of really very considerable general 
information. He also was a fluent and sometimes a brilliant 
talker, and so was always welcome in Park Lane, and the old 
man was proud to own as a connection by marriage a learned 
dignitary of the English Episcopal Church. 

Dora’s tremendous change of fortune had made at first her 
former harsh and censorious uncle and cousins very uncomfort- 
tnble when they became her guests in her splendid London man- 
sion, but she soon set them at their ease, and made them all feel 


254 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

that she had not only forgiven, but forgotten their churlish be- 
havior to her, and this glorious Cinderella figuratively heaped 
hods of cinders on the heads of her abashed and repentant rela- 
tives. The tables were turned with a vengeance, but like sensible 
people, the Leightons eat the leek in silence, swallowed their pride, 
and prepared to humbly take their share of the good things that 
might fall in their way. 

The Leighton girls were almost slavish in their adulation of 
the brilliant society leader, their once-despised drudge, and made 
themselves very useful to Dora, and would fetch and carry for 
her like two-legged retrievers. 

Of her three cousins, Dora did not trouble to conceal her par- 
tiality for Annie, and consequently she was the one who was gen- 
erally chosen to accompany her father to Park Lane during the 
Clarks’ stay in town. 

It has previously been shown that the multi-millionaire was a 
man of very liberal and princely ideas, and liked to see all those 
who formed his immediate entourage well off in a pecuniary sense, 
and he had a way of his own of doing things with Napoleonic sud- 
denness. So one day he intimated to the Canon that he should 
like after breakfast to have a word in private with him. When 
they were seated in the old man’s sanctum and had each lighted 
a cigar Mr. Clark opened fire by saying : 

“ Well, Canon, I have been fixing up my affairs lately in case 
of my death, and have thought that it would save my executors 
trouble if I were to cut down the list of legacies and instead give 
the amounts to the various parties during my lifetime. I can 
well afford to do this, as I have more money than I know 
what to do with. Acting on this principle, I have donated $io,- 
000,000 to my sweet Dora, and other amounts to various parties, 
and now, sir, comes your turn. Here is a check for 200,000 
pounds, which in American currency is $1,000,000, and here also 
is a check for 100,000 pounds drawn in favor of Annie and two 
for 50,000 pounds in favor of each of your other two daughters. 

“ It was Dora’s wish that I should make this distinction in 
the amounts given to her cousins for reasons which I dare say 
they can understand. The checks are drawn on my account at the 
Bank of England to the order of the various parties, respectively. 

“ Dora says that you will soon be made a dean, whatever that 
may be. You are a big-bug now, and you will be a bigger then, 
and it is but right that you and your family should be able in a 


Secrets Of Social Success. 


255 

small way to support the dignity of your office. I don’t want 
any thanks ; it is merely what I should have done for you and 
yours in my will.” 

To say that the Canon was astonished and staggered as he 
mechanically handled the checks with a dazed expression on his 
face would have very inadequately expressed the effect this extra- 
ordinary statement had on him. He turned red and pale alter- 
nately, and it seemed as if the usually garrulous and eloquent 
churchman was absolutely tongue-tied. At last he uttered 
(literally with tears in his eyes) the following words: 

“ How princely, how munificent ! How can we accept such 
magnificent donations ? ” 

“ I guess. Canon, you not only can, but shall accept them. 
It is, after all, only a trifle.” 

“ Only a trifle, sir ! ” cried the Canon, warmly shaking Mr. 
Clark by the hand ; “ why, it is a splendid fortune, and how little 
we deserve it. Excuse me, sir, I must leave you for a short 
time ; your generosity and that of my sweet niece, who I know has 
prompted you in the matter, have quite unmanned me.” 

The Canon’s feelings being somew'hat calmed down, he hastened 
to inform Annie by word of mouth and his two other daughters by 
letter of their good fortune. And then he and Annie almost 
shamefacedly (when they reflected how she had returned good 
for evil) proceeded to relieve their feelings by pouring a flood 
of grateful words into Dora’s ears. It may here be mentioned 
that henceforth at family prayers in his Canterbury Rectory or 
later on in his Deanery, Mr. Leighton never forgot to intercede 
most fervently with the Almighty for the health and happiness, 
both temporal and eternal, of his benefactors. The worthy Canon 
and his jubilant daughters agreed not to make public at present 
their accession to wealth. But the new landau drawn by a pair 
of high-priced bays, the costly, entertainments at the Rectory, 
and the expensive toilets that blossomed out on the backs of the 
young ladies gave the show away, and as it is only human nature 
for people to keep tabs on the financial condition of their 
neighbors, and as that unerring guide the Illustrated London 
News had, in its weekly accounts of the way deceased testators 
had bestowed their money, given no hint of the Leighton’s won- 
derful windfall, it was naturally surmised that this pactolian 
stream must have derived its source from Park Lane. 

I don’t think I could do better than again to dip into that 


256 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

teeming chronicle of passing occurrences, Mr. Slocum^s diary, for 
the faithful portrayal of the events of the next few succeeding 
weeks. He (the Judge) appears to possess a most astounding 
talent for memorizing and recording conversations in which he 
has either himself joined or has played the role of a silent but 
attentive listener. 

First-class reporters possess this gift to a greater or less 
degree, but I must say the Judge beats them all for sheer verbal 
accuracy, and is fully qualified to play the part of a Boswell to a 
twentieth century Johnson. 


The Diary Re-Opened, 


'^S7 


CHAPTER III. 

THE DIARY RE-OPENED. 


June 26, Sunday. 

Well, I haven’t done much diary writing since we left ’Frisco 
only snatches of it at times, though I am afraid it was chiefly 
owing to laziness, as there has been plenty of interesting circum- 
stances to record since Bella and I have taken up our residence 
with the Clarks in Park Lane. I must say that a London Season 
is a thing of beauty and joy, but not forever, for there is nothing 
in this transitory world of ours that seems to glide away with 
such startling rapidity. I think this is chiefly owing to the 
kaleidoscopic character of the show, there being such a multi- 
tudinous variety in its attractions. 

In addition to such basic and orthodox events as “ balls,” at 
homes,” dinner parties and the opera, there is the Royal Academy 
at Burlington House, the meets of the four-in-hand and coaching 
clubs, Epsom, Ascot and Sandown race meetings, the horse show 
at Olympia, polo at Hurlingham, Henley Regatta, the Oxford 
and Cambridge and Eton and Harrow cricket matches. To these 
may be added Royal concerts and garden parties, coach drives to 
various parts of the metropolitan suburbs, river picnics, dinners 
at Greenwich, the Star & Garter at Richmond, the Grey Hound 
at Hampton Court and church parades in the Park. 

Ah, well, I could lengthen if I chose the long list that brings 
thronging to my mind (as I write) delightful memories of the 
past, but I won’t. Compared with such an imposing array of 
social events how meager and short is the list of fashionable dis- 
sipations that New York or Washington can present. Society 
does not patronize Sheepshead Bay and Morris Park. There are 
no gigantic picnics similar to Henley and the cricket matches. 
There’s no Hurlingham or Royal Academy. No Court functions 
or garden parties. 

The New York season is terribly handicapped by climateric 
conditions. The summer months are impossible owing to the 


258 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

heat and the winters are not cold enough to give the Four Hun- 
dred the chance of emulating the dwellers by the Neva in the 
polaric pleasures of ice-palaces and constant sleigh-riding. 

Not but that New York cannot hold its own with or even show 
the way to the rest of the world in some respects. What other 
capital city possesses such a splendid Speedway, or a better opera 
house than the Metropolitan, or more brilliant and catholic horse 
and dog shows. Still in spite of these and of the select dances 
and art teas at the Waldorf-Astoria or the brilliant receptions at 
the White House or the British Ambassador’s at Washington, it 
must be conceded that it would ever be impossible for a Repub- 
lican Society to rival in brilliancy or in attractiveness one held 
under the aegis and inspiration of a monarchial or Imperial 
Court. The former is like a flock of sheep without a shepherd 
or a planetary system lacking a central sun. A plutocracy is 
the natural forerunner of an Aristocracy, and year by year by 
an unavoidable evolutionary process the great American families 
seem to be becoming more impatient of Republican simplicity and 
more inclined toward Patrician exclusiveness, and assisted by 
grand alliances on the other side to be silently molding them- 
selves into a solid agregation of an untitled nobility. 

In order to see America’s smart set really at home one need 
not go to Washington and New York, but in the first place to 
Newport, R. I., and in the second to London. 

My dear Bella has been frantically happy. She and Dora 
have, I really believed, only one mind between them. They are 
simply devoted to each other. What a clever woman Mrs. Clark 
is, to be sure. She contrives to be almost as popular with her 
own sex as she is with the men. They say the , King is quite 
crazy about the new social star and the Queen also has taken an 
immense fancy to her. I really believe that when Jim is a natur- 
alized British citizen, as he infallibly will be some day, that it 
won’t be long before he has a seat in the House of Peers, not on 
account of his own, but of his wife’s merits. 

I must say that I have had a jolly good time myself. I will 
put on record what was one of my average days’ employment. 

After breakfast I strolled down to my office in Pall Mall. The 
Emperor, by the way, to save me trouble wished me to do my 
work in Park Lane by ’phone, but this didn’t suit me at all, as 
I have found out the immense benefit to my health of walking 
as much as possible. We Americans do not use our understand- 
ings (I mean thereby our legs) sufficiently, hence I believe that 


259 


The Diary Re-Opened. 

is one of the reasons we as a nation are inclined to dyspepsia. 
Well, to continue, a couple of hours’ moderate application is 
generally more than sufficient to get me through my morning’s 
work, a considerable part of which consists in speaking through 
the ’phone to my subordinates in Pittsburg and ’Frisco. Having 
finished my correspondence I stroll up St. James Street and 
so down Piccadilly, and turn in at the Anglo-American Club, 
where I generally find the Emperor and inform him of any fresh 
business development that may have materialized. If it is a fine 
day our horses are brought round to the club, and we mount and 
proceed to Rotten Row, where we find Jim, Dora, and Bella. We 
all of us enjoy these midday canters immensely. 

Then we steer our nags to Park Lane and take lunch, after 
this meal the ladies go shopping and making calls. I return to 
the office more for form’s sake than anything else, the Emperor 
and Jim betaking themselves to their club, the latter later on 
calling for me and we go for a stroll up Regent Street, down 
Bond Street and the Burlington Arcade, this round being con- 
sidered the happy hunting grounds of the lounger. We like 
looking in at the shop windows, and what an everlasting pleas- 
ure this is. We turn in sometimes at Verrey’s Cafe in Regent 
Street and partake of whiskys and a split soda and enjoy a view 
of the passing throng. We then steer for the Anglo-American, 
and rejoin the Emperor, whom we generally find taking a nap. 
About 6. p. M. a waiter announces the fact that the ladies are 
awaiting us in the carriage and two of us, generally Jim and I, 
arrange ourselves on the front seat of the landau, and after being 
blocked in for about twenty minutes by the enormously con- 
gested traffic between Hamilton Place and Constitution Hill, we 
take our place in that interminable procession that winds its slow 
length along between Hyde Park Corner and the Albert 
Memorial. We have got accustomed to being stared at. 

I know right well that no two people in this vast metropolis, 
barring, of course, royalties, command more interest and curios- 
ity among all classes of the community than Jim and Dora.^ So 
Bella and I feel we receive a kind of reflected glory by riding 
in the same carriage with the famous pair. When Canon Leigh- 
ton and one of his daughters (generally Annie) happens to be 
staying with us in Park Lane, then they naturally go in the 
landau, and in that case the old man drives me in his buggy ; or 
we two go on a cruise in the suburbs on an auto, or again some- 
times the Emperor takes us all for a turn in the Park on his 


26 o 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

four-in-hand coach, and right well does he handle the ribbons 
too; in fact, he has gained a good deal of Kudos among the 
great experts here. Of course, I am talking of an off day now, 
for what with race meetings garden parties, etc., etc., we are 
generally busy in the afternoon. As for Jim, he frequently dis- 
appears after lunch and doesn’t show up again until dinner time. 
He hardly ever misses an important race fixture, and is an 
assiduous attendant at Hurlingham and the gun club, at both of 
which clubs he has taken the shine out of the pigeon-shooting 
Britishers who frequent these resorts for the purpose of slaught- 
ering the blue rocks. Also Jim has a string of thoroughbreds 
in training at Newmarket, and he must needs go and see them 
occasionally. I understand that he is in negotiation for the pur- 
chase of the finest and largest estate in the Eastern Counties, 
an estate renowned for the enormous quantity of game raised and 
killed there every year. Jim occasionally goes down to Glasgow 
to see his new steam yacht that is completing on the Clyde, but 
that only keeps him away a single day. To us Americans ac- 
customed to traveling huge distances in our own country a 
journey of 800 miles all told is nothing, not so far as a run 
to Buffalo and back from New York. 

Well to return to the recital of the day’s doings. The real 
work begins when we have returned to ’Frisco House as the old 
man has christened his Park Lane Mansion. Having arrayed 
ourselves in our full war paint it is a case of beginning the even- 
ing either with a big dinner party ches nous, as the French say, 
or attending an equally big one at some one else’s house. This 
is followed by say a couple of “ at homes ” and at least one, 
sometimes two or three balls, and we are not in bed till perhaps 
4 A. M. on the average. Except on extra special occasions the 
old man sneaks home after getting through the first “ at home.” 

Jim generally goes through the mill from a feeling of duty, 
and of course I form one of the party from the same laudable 
motive. The ladies never seem to have enough of it and dance 
away to their heart’s content. It is considered a great distinction 
for any man to lead the fair Dora in a cotillon, the fortunate ones 
being generally royalties or titled members of the smartest of 
smart sets. 

Talking of smart, by the way, what a different signification the 
word has over here to what it has in the States. And in regard 
to titles, how delightfully Democratic old England is, to be sure, 
[far more so than my native country. There we run after foreign 


26 i 


The Diary Re-Opened. 

name-handles, and there is a gulf between the classes in America 
that only the dollar can bridge. Here, on the contrary, though 
the people generally recognize with respect the gradations of 
rank, all classes seem more or less in touch with each other. 
This is seen to a marked degree on a race track. 

I saw the Derby run for this year and won by a horse the prop- 
erty of the Duke of Westminster. He is evidently a popular 
sportsman judging by the cheers he received when he proudly 
led his horse to the paddock after the race. I saw him shake 
hands with a gipsy, a costermonger and a man who might, judg- 
ing by his appearance, have been a burglar when he was out of 
his regular job of brick-laying. 

There is no getting away from the fact that the English aris- 
tocracy as a body do their duty, and earn the love and respect 
of the people whose battles they help to fight, and in whose sports 
and amusements they take their part. 

I suppose that some day the American millionaire will see that 
he is making a fatal mistake by keeping aloof from and erecting 
a barrier between himself and the people. He must come over 
here to learn his lesson. These international marriages are doing 
a power of good. 

Since I have been here I have noticed that among themselves, 
noblemen and untitled gentlemen of the same set or belonging to 
the same regiment are on terms of absolute equality. I saw an 
instance of this in Park Lane. 

The Emperor was giving a grand dinner party soon after 
our arrival. The ladies had withdrawn. There were several 
noblemen present among them, the young Earl of Tipton, one of 
the noblest and most potent members of the aristocracy. The 
old man hadn’t become, as he is now, so accustomed to seeing at 
his table the biggest bugs in the land. Lord Tipton is a lieu- 
tenant in the first Life Guards. A brother officer of his of the 
name of Thornton was seated opposite him. During a lull in 
the conversation the latter exclaimed : “ I say. Tippy old man, 
are you going to drive our Regimental coach down to Epsom ? ” 
“ No, Charlie,” replied his Lordship, “ I’ll leave that honor to 
you. You are a better whip than I am.” 

I could see a look of intense surprise, even horror, spread over 
the Emperor’s face at this familiar way of addressing a nobleman 
by one who was only a commoner, though, it’s true, of good 
family. I was rather staggered too, for a moment. Especially 
as his Lordship took his soubriquet as a matter of course. But 


262 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

then they were in the same regiment and the same set. Between 
such men titles are superfluities, but I knew that his Lordship 
would be the first to resent a familiarity from one whom he did 
not consider on a social equality with himself. 

Too many people in America suppose that the English nobility 
form a clique by themselves like our Newport set. This is a 
mistake. There are commoners of a lineage that no, titles could 
further ennoble, who by tacit consent wield as much social in- 
fluence as the greatest peers in the land. 

But all this hobnobbing with coroneted personages has had a 
great efifect on the Emperor. He has got in the way of per- 
petually talking of His Grace the Duke of or his friend the 

Earl of . Oh dear, oh dear, what humbugs we American 

Republicans are ! I feel insensibly, to tell the truth, that I have 
myself caught the Patrician fever too, though in a milder form. 

But as for the Emperor, he has got a regular swelled head, and 
in spite of his tall talk about patriotism and his devotion to the 
land of Liberty and such like spread eagleism, I verily believe 
that if the King would offer him a Marquisate he would change 
his nationality to-morrow. I could see how the land lay, when 
Dora came in to his sanctum after breakfast one morning in 
June where the Boss, Jim, the Canon, and I were sitting each 
enjoying his post-prandial cigar. The lovely creature having 
(as was her wont) kissed the old man, sat down and pulled out 
a little jewelled memorandum book, with a dainty gold pencil, 
and said : 

“ Now, dear Daddy, I am sending out invitations for our next 
big dinner party. Of course you would like some of your ’Frisco 
friends invited. A whole crowd of them have called.” 

“ My dear Dora,” replied the Emperor, swelling out his chest, 
and sticking his thumbs as was his wont in the arm-holes of his 
vest when he wished to assume an air of importance, and puffing 
vigorously the while at his extra size Rothschild cigar, “ I can’t 
really surround my dinner table with those good chumps. They 
must take back seats now. You can invite them to your next 
at home. Why there are more than a dozen noblemen you have 
on your list who haven’t dined here yet.” 

I could see a great grin gradually suffuse the countenance of 
my friend Jim, and the worthy Canon coughed and blew his 
nose to conceal his mirth, while Dora laughed right out. She 
was unfeignedly glad, and so was her spouse, at having got rid 
of the obnoxious ’Friscan element so easily. 


The Diary Re-Opened. 263 

For my part I thought it was too bad to throw over old friends 
in this cavalier fashion, but it wasn’t my business, and after all 
I am a New Yorker. 

Well, here we are at the end of the season with a delightful 
time of jolly ruralizing before us. For this is Sunday, and to- 
morrow we start on our tour along the roads of England. We 
shall be just eight in number — namely, the Emperor, Jim, and 
Dora, the Canon and Annie, Dawlish, Bella, and I. By the way, 
I was awfully glad to see the Captain to-day. He has just 
arrived from ’Frisco where he has been taking the Emperor’s 
place and doing odd jobs. Fie is a real good sort, and he and I 
hit it off to a T. 

The Canon is all right too, a bit pompous and fuzzy, but chock 
full of information. It is a liberal education to be in the same 
house with him. I like his daughter Annie, too, she is a genuine 
open-hearted girl, and she hits it off very well with my wife. 

We were seated in the veranda outside the dinning- room this 
evening. It is a great thing to be able to go outside your house 
in London without being spied by the passing crowd. A high 
wall surrounds the mansion and garden and completely ensures 
privacy. The dining-room is on the ground floor, but from the 
balcony of the drawing-room on the first story one commands 
a nice view of Hyde Park, one of London’s grand oases in a 
wilderness of bricks and mortar. I say we were seated on the 
veranda ; the we strictly refers to our family party, including the 
Canon, Annie, and Dawlish. The Emperor has inherited certain 
prejudices in regard to keeping the Sabbath from his New England 
ancestors. He will accept no invitations and issue none for 
Sunday. His principal object is to give his servants a partial 
rest. He is very considerate in this respect. Still he occasion- 
ally makes an exception in favor of a quiet dinner on Sunday 
evening at Hurlingham Club. How we did enjoy these outings ! 
How delicious to sit after a steaming hot day and a good dinner, 
restfully in those charming gardens, with rows of Chinese lanterns 
swinging overhead and dimly illuminating the scene, while the 
dulcet strains of the blue Hungarian Band, combined with the 
soothing influence of the nicotian weed, assist in producing a state 
of langorous lassitude. 

But this was the only exception; generally we dined on Sun- 
day en famille as on this occasion in ’Frisco House. 

Dora, who is a zealous church-goer, is reallv making good 
Christians of us godless Yanks. We go regularly to church, 


264 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

either St. Paul’s, Knightbridge, All Saints’, Margaret Street, or 
St. George’s, Hanover Square. Apart from its religious sig- 
nificance I have come to regard church-going as a useful measure 
in helping to promote respect for religion and therefore for law, 
order and decent living among the members of a large household. 

“ Dawlish, my boy,” said the old man heartily, I am right 
glad to see you again. I hope you left all our friends in good 
shape in the land of the free.” 

“ What do you call this land. Daddy ? ” exclaimed Dora without 
giving time for the Captain to reply to her father-in-law’s query. 
“ Are we Britishers altogether crushed under the iron heel of a 
despotic Monarchy, are all our privileges usurped by a grasp- 
ing and bloated Aristocracy? I think since we have resided 
in this little village that you have been allowed to do pretty much 
as you choose. Why, you have turned Hyde Park into a private 
Speedway of your own. You have seen for yourself how the 
people can hold huge orderly demonstrations in Hyde Park and 
are at liberty to ventilate their opinions on any number of plat- 
forms on any conceivable subject, provided they do not endanger 
the public peace, a privilege the Sovereign people of the United 
States have been deprived of. It is also possible for peaceable 
citizens to walk on the grass in our parks without the chance 
of being clubbed by fierce, brutal policemen. I don’t think the 
same can be said by dwellers in the great Empire City. Then 
again Jim has told me that the number of petty offences for 
which an inhabitant of the United States can be arrested for at 
the arbitrary discretion of the police is perfectly appalling and 
rather savors of Czar-ruled Russia.” 

“ I say. Judge, can’t you say a word in defence of our almighty 
great country? Dora has fairly knocked me out,” said the 
old man. 

” I fear, sir, Mrs. Clark has so very much the best of the 
argument that I can make no reply to her very damaging state- 
ment. What an advocate you would have made, Mrs. Clark,” 
said I. 

“ I fear I shouldn’t have made much money. Judge, at the 
bar,” the fair lady replied, “ as I should have always elected 
to plead the cause of the weak against the strong, and that isn’t 
a paying game, is it ? ” 

I had to confess that it wasn’t. And then the old man created 
ii diversion by repeating his question to Dawlish, who replied : 

” I left everybody, including Miss Clark, in good shape, and 


The Diary Re-Opened. 265 

I am weighed down with all kinds of nice messages and good 
wishes. The ladies of ’Frisco are awfully proud of your tri- 
umphal progress, Mrs. Clark, as they feel you are their chosen 
representative over here.” 

“ I wish you could have come before,” said Dora. Oh, you 
would have enjoyed the ’Varsity cricket match and Henley Re- 
gatta. Daddy got us such a lovely house-boat, by far the finest 
on the course. Their Majesties did us the honor of lunching 
with us on the last day. What a race that was for the Grand 
Challenge, Leander only beating Yale by four feet. Jim nearly 
fell in the river with excitement.” 

“ And you should have seen,” exclaimed Bella, Mrs. Clark 
at her drawing-room tea in her presentation gown. She looked 
divine. And you should also have observed us two in the Royal 
enclosure at Ascot, we were actually invited to pay a visit to 
the Royal Box. Oh, didn’t my New York friends envy me! 
Then Dora danced with the Prince of Wales at the ball at Buck- 
ingham Palace. Our visiting list is crammed full of the names 
of peers. Ordinarily Lords are as common as blackberries ; we 
don’t think anything of a title under the dignity of an Earl. 
We’ve mashed Cabinet Ministers. City Magnates, Generals and 
Admirals too, haven’t we, Dora? ” 

“ Especially the latter, dear ; I have had all sorts of billet doux 
and stacks of bouquets from a certain old salt who shall be name- 
less,” said Dora, laughing and glancing mischievously at Jim, 
who looked I thought rather glum. 

“ Well, it’s very tantalizing to hear of all these junketings, and 
not to have been on the spot,” said the Captain, but I had the 
pleasure of reading about them, and I must content myself with 
the aftermath of the season. I suppose, Mr. Clark, we shall be 
going to Goodwood.” 

“ Yes, sir, and Cowes too,” replied the old man. 

And a yacht cruise,” said Jim. “ My skipper has ’phoned 
me from Greenock to-day to the effect that the Dora is ready to 
leave her moorings at any moment. I have ordered her to be 
at Lundy Island Safety Harbor by the end of the week.” 

“ But, Dora,” said Annie Leighton (who with her uncle hadn’t 
hitherto taken any part in the conversation) “ you haven’t told 
Captain Dawlish anything about the expedition.” 

‘‘Doesn’t he know all about it?” replied Mrs. Clark. “How 
foxy Daddy is.” 

“ I meant it as a little surprise for my worthy Secretary,” said 


266 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

the old man. '' You knew, Dawlish, that I was having a lot of 
auto-electric cars built at Pittsburg. Well, I had them shipped 
over here, and we all start to-morrow for a tour on wheels to 
the southwest of this little island, and I am told by Dora and 
Miss Annie here that the scenery is pretty fair ; but you are 
a Devonshire man, Captain, so you know all about it.” 

“ Every one thinks the spot of earth he was raised on to be 
the very best in God’s creation, and we Devonians I guess are 
no exception to the rule,” replied the Captain. But I am 
certain of two things, first, that you will be charmed, and 
secondly, that we shall have a bully time.” 

“ You will be able to point out pretty bits of scenery and we 
shall have a learned Professor, my worthy friend the Canon, 
here, who will keep us posted up in old time ruins and fossils,” 
said the Emperor. 

“ I guess among the latter is included Maiden Aunts,” said 
Jim, laughing. 

“ Papa will be in all his glory,” said Annie. “ He is quite an 
antiquarian and knows all about Roman camps and ancient 
Inns.” 

“ And I dare say he is fond of sampling the ancient ale in the 
said inns,” said the Emperor. ” That reminds me we ought to 
drink to the health of our expedition. We shall strike Jim’s 
yacht at Lundy and she will accompany us round the coast. I 
say. Canon, fill your glass and give me your opinion of that old 
brandy. The Judge snapped it up for me at a sale in the city. 
It’s sixty years old, and I have coraled all there is of it in the 
market. By the way, how well that Hobbema looks you secured 
at Christy’s for $40,000, Canon. To you and to the Judge I am 
under tremendous obligations.” 

“ Speaking for myself, sir,” replied the courtly ecclesiastic, 
“ the boot is on the other leg. It is I that have cause for saying 
that I am infinitely obliged to you, Mr. Clark, and as long as this 
gentleman,” pointing to me, makes the replenishment of your 
cellars, his charge there will be no occasion to fix a bush over 
your front door, sir.” 

“ Explain your meaning, my learned friend,” said Mr. Clark. 

“ It is this,” replied the Canon. In medieval times it was 
customary for taverns to hang out a sign in the shape of a bush. 
In case of those houses where the liquor was known to be super- 
lative it became customary to say that they required nothing to 


The Diary Re-Opened. 267 

attract the attention of the public ; in other words, they were so 
well known that the bushes were superfluous.” 

“ But think, uncle dear,” said Dora, “ this house is not a 
tavern, wine is not sold here.” 

“ But a tavern, my dear Dora, used to be a place of delight- 
ful resort, the great Doctor Johnson said. I do not take my ease 
in a tavern, and if there is one place in which one can feel easy 
and at home in, it is surely this noble mansion,” replied the 
churchman. 

“ Good for you, Canon,” replied the old man. “ You have 
paid me a pretty compliment and answered my fair daughter-in- 
law in fine shape. I wish I could talk like you, but here’s to 
your health and success to the expedition,” and the Emperor 
drained a liquor glass of the famous brandy. 

“ Can I take my bike, Dora ? ” said Annie. 

“ Why, yes, dear, we will all do so, at least all who ride wheels. 
There is a special place for storing them inside the auto coach. 
But now, Bella, you, Annie and I will go to bed and leave the 
gentlemen to talk of taverns and trifles of that nature.” And she 
arose, kissed her uncle and father-in-law and retired with her 
two ladies-in-waiting, as my wife and Miss Leighton call them- 
selves, and we men had a prolonged seance, in the course of which 
many cigars and much of the old brandy were consumed and 
every subject from yachting to the Yosemite fully discussed be- 
fore we turned in. 


268 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER IV. 

LUXURIOUS GIPSYING. 


June 27, Monday. 

“ Hey, for the spreading Greenwood tree, 

A roving gypsy life for me.” 


But it is gipsying of a very gilt edge character that I am 
enjoying at the present moment, as I sit writing in an elegant 
silken electrically lighted marquee in the depths of the New For- 
est, but I must tell how I, or rather we, got here to-day, which 
has been altogether one of the most delightful and satisfactory 
so far of my life. 

In order to avoid the traffic, it was decided to make an early 
start. So by 6 A. m. this morning our procession of autos left 
Park Lane and made its way down the Brompton and Fulham 
roads to the no small wonderment of those of the inhabitants 
of that thickly populated southwest district of the metropolis 
who happened to be about. We met lots of wagons laden with 
cabbages, strawberries and other such like rural produce, slowly 
wending their way to Covent Garden Market. Of all human 
institutions, markets, by the way, seem to me to be the most con- 
servative. All the King’s horses and all the King’s men would 
not suffice to change the location of a market-place, however 
inconvenient, crowded and unsuitable the site may be, as Covent 
Garden certainly is, for instance. Centrality seems to override all 
other considerations. 

As we passed over the elegant bridge that spans old Father 
Thames, we could see the Bishop of London’s palace at Fulham 
nestling on one side of the river and the ancient suburb of Put- 
ney on the other, the latter looking sleepy and quiet. It wakes 
into life for a short spell once a year, when the University crews 
locate themselves here in the early spring to do their annual train- 
ing for their great aquatic struggle. 


Luxurious Gipsying. 269 

We then commenced the gradual ascent that leads from the 
river up the High Street on to Putney Heath, and thence to 
Wimbledon Common, the scene in former times of numerous 
duels between the young bloods of society, of frequent hold-ups 
of travelers by well-armed, well-mounted road agents, and lastly 
of the occasional gibbeting in chains of those of the said high- 
waymen who were unlucky enough to fall into the clutches of 
the law, having first paid the penalty of their crimes at Tyburn ; 
and in this connection it may be as well to recall to mind that in 
those days, according to Blackstone, there were 169 different of- 
fenses to which was attached the punishment of death by hang- 
ing. There was certainly a terrible simplicity about that bar- 
barous code, and a judge has been known to have condemned to 
the same gallows a murderer, a sheep-stealer and a hapless shop- 
girl who, in order to assist her lover, had stolen ten dollars from 
her master’s till. 

Before doing any more towards the recital of the day’s doings, 
I shall put on record a short description of the procession of 
automobiles that was now fairly on the road. 

The one that is in the lead, and on which all of our party 
were seated at the start, is the auto coach. This is similar in ap- 
pearance, though somewhat larger than an ordinary four-in-hand 
stage. It has room for eighteen passengers on the outside (not 
including the motorman) and eight inside with a squeeze; be- 
sides this there is a special division in the interior for stowing 
away a dozen bikes, also a compartment for the reception of 
hampers and small articles of luggage, such as grips and Glad- 
stone bags. 

The next auto is the buggy, which is intended to act as a 
species of tender to the coach. It can carry eight persons, and 
is a sort of magnified mail phaeton. This machine is capable of 
running at a high rate of speed, sixty or seventy miles an hour 
in case of emergency. 

Then come four cars in order as named : “ The Boudoir,” 
“ The Smoker,” “ The Kitchen,” and “ The Service.” The first 
is for the use of the ladies, as its name implies. There is a small 
compartment for the accommodation of maids in attendance on 
the ladies, the main space being beautifully furnished as a small 
drawing-room. 

The Smoker is, of course, for us men, and can also be used as 
a luncheon car. The kitchen is fitted with a small but very com- 


270 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

plete batterie de cuisine, with scullery, pantry and cold storage. 
The Service is for the use of the servants, and, equally with the 
Boudoir and Smoker, is provided with lavatories and requisites. 

All three have ample outside as well as inside sitting accommo- 
dation, and will afford refuge in case of bad weather and even 
sleeping accommodations at a pinch. All four cars can be 
coupled on to each other. 

The baggage car comes next. This is followed by the wagon, 
a comparatively small but very useful auto provided with every 
kind of appliance for carrying provisions, etc. The utility car 
brings up the rear. This contains all manner of tools for repair- 
ing the autos, including a portable forge and reserve electrical 
storage sufficient to add another 50 to the 125 miles each auto car 
can run in a day. The Utility, as it is called for short, is in 
charge of two highly paid skilled electrical engineers. In addi- 
tion to the foregoing, there is a car loaded with tents and ap- 
pliances for pitching a camp. This was despatched three days 
ago in charge of two old British army reserve men and two of 
the Emperor’s grooms. The old man confided in me that the out- 
fit is not quite complete yet, but Hully Gee, how it can be im- 
proved I fail to see, but as usual the Emperor, I suppose, has 
got something up his sleeve to surprise us with. He likes playing 
the part of a benevolent magician. 

Leaving the coach, the buggy and wagon out of the question, 
all the other cars are about 40 feet in length and of a fair width. 
The metal work in all of them is composed of hardened hollow 
aluminum, every ounce of weight being saved consistent with 
safety. When any of our party are cycling, the Emperor has 
ordered that the leading car shall keep well behind the slowest 
rider. 

There is a professional motorman to each car, but in addi- 
tion to these and the two electrical engineers and the two army 
reservists (the latter of whom were engaged especially to pitch 
and strike tents and to instruct the servants in the art), there 
are with us the chief butler and four footmen (the under butler 
and two footmen are to go by rail from town to Westward Ho 
with the plate and extra baggage and wait for us on board the 
yacht), the coachman and four grooms, two chefs and the same 
number of kitchen scullions. 

So we shall have plenty of help. All the male servants have 
been instructed in the art of motoring. 


Luxurious Gipsying. 271 

Dora and Bella take a lady’s maid apiece, but these are the only 
female servants in the expedition. They will sleep with the ladies 
when in camp. 

Well, to return to my muttons, as the French say. As we 
passed over Putney Heath, we could mark in the near distance 
the historic windmill famous (as Dawlish informed me) in the 
days when the rifle volunteers of England used to congregate in 
its neighborhood to test their skill in rifle shooting. 

As we began descending a well-graded slope towards the main 
road Dora, who was sitting next our motorman (none other than 
the Emperor himself), exclaimed: 

“ I tell you what. Daddy, I vote we go through Richmond Park, 
Suppose you and uncle get on the buggy and we will mount 
our wheels and the cars can go by the road, and we can pick them 
up at Surbiton. What do you say, you people ? ” 

“ Right you are, dear,” cried Annie, “ Pm just dying for a 
ride.” 

Dawlish and Jim promptly recorded their votes in favor of 
the proposal, and the Canon, who was waxing eloquent on the 
subject of the iniquity of encroachment on Commons by un- 
scrupulous landowners, gave a dignified assent, and of course the 
Emperor fell in with Dora’s wishes as he always did and 
promptly stopped the coach, and with it the procession of autos. 
The bikes were soon taken out. The chief motorman, who had 
been tooling the buggy, took Mr. Clark’s place on the coach, and 
was instructed to proceed slowly to a certain point in Surbiton 
where he was to halt and await our advent, or if we arrived be- 
fore the autos that we should pull up for them. 

Then the Emperor with the Canon and I seated ourselves in 
the buggy, and the five young people gaily mounted their bikes 
and scorched, down the fine piece of macadam to the Robin 
Hood Gate of Richmond Park. 

I had brought my bicycle with me, but I was (as a lawyer) 
naturally interested in the subject of Common Rights, so I elected 
to remain with the two seniors and bear them company at least 
for a while. 

Dawlish, accompanied by Annie Leighton, piloted us, while 
Jim, my wife, and Dora followed at a respectable distance, and 
the buggy brought up the rear. I could see that Miss Annie is 
a fine rider and the athletic Captain gave me the impression that 
he is a perfect scorcher on a wheel, so the gap between the pair 


272 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

and their companions kept steadily widening. By the time we 
had reached the White Lodge where the late Duke and Duchess 
of Teck used to reside there was a space of fully lOO yards be- 
tween the leaders and their fellow cyclists. 

By this time I could see that the argument on Common Rights 
had become a common nuisance to the Emperor, so I changed the 
subject by observing to the ecclesiastic: 

“ How well your daughter rides, Canon. Jim would have to do 
all he knows to keep up with her, and as for my wife and Mrs. 
Clark, why she would lose them altogether.” , 

” I don’t quite agree with you. Judge,” replied the Canon. 
“ Dora was fully as fast or faster than Annie a year ago, it seems 
to me that the others are hanging back on purpose.” I could 
see as he spoke a genial smile irradiate the churchman’s broad 
face, and I kind of guessed the cause. 

“ The Captain and Miss Leighton make a fine pair,” said I, 
smiling in my turn. 

“ You bet. Judge,” said the Emperor bluntly. “ I should like 
to see them make a match of it. My Secretary is one of the best 
chaps in the world and I know it would please Dora.” 

The Canon’s eyes twinkled with satisfaction as he heard 
these approving words from the great man. But he thought it 
discreet to change the conversation into other channels, and said 
addressing me : 

“ What is your opinion of this, one of our finest public parks. 
Judge? It isn’t quite as big as the Yellowstone, but we people 
who are accustomed to nature on a limited scale think quite a 
deal of it.” 

“ Why, it is too lovely for anything,” I replied. The herds 
of deer, the clumps of fine trees, patches of gorse, and then this 
deliciously green grass, together with the undulating character 
of the ground, make up a perfect picture.” 

“ I wish we could raise such grass in the States. Ours always 
seems to have a kind of washed-out sort of color,” said the old 
man. 

“ The summer heat kills it over there,” I said. But isn’t this 
Crown property? ” 

“ Not now,” replied the Canon. “ The royal parks are kept 
up at the public expense, and belong to the nation, and are in a 
sense national playgrounds.” 

“ I should like to have a park like this,” said the Emperor. 


Luxurious Gipsying. 


273 

“ I wonder what price the British Government would ask for it. 
A pretty big figure I guess.” 

” I am afraid it is not at present in the market, sir,” replied 
the Canon, coughing down a laugh, “ but if things go on much 
longer in the way they are doing, this Country will soon be run 
by an American Syndicate, and the Crown Jewels will be on 
show in a big Anglo-American dime museum.” 

At length we left the Park, and passed through the ancient 
Borough of Kingston, which the learned Canon took care to ex- 
plain is so called from the King’s Stone on which the Saxon 
Kinglets of Kent, and afterwards of Wessex, used to sit during 
their coronation ceremonies, and he added that the actual stone 
is still preserved. 

“ I should like to see it,” said the old man. “ What’s its age, 
Canon ? ” 

“ That I can’t tell you, sir, but I should suppose a good many 
millions of years. But it must be fully fourteen hundred sum- 
mers since it was first used for business purposes. But there 
is a stone with an older history attached to it than this, if what 
tradition says is true,” replied the Canon. 

“Where is this pebble you refer to, Mr. Leighton?” said I. 

“ It is in the Chapter House of Westminster Abbey,” replied 
the Canon. “ It’s called the Stone of Scone. All the English 
Monarchs since James First, and before that all the Kings of Scot- 
land, have successively been crowned on it. It is known that 
it was conveyed from Ireland, and tradition says it was brought 
in a Phoenician ship from Palestine along with the Ark of the 
Covenant, Aaron’s budding rod and other venerable relics by 
the Prophet Jeremiah, who rescued them from the hands of the 
spoilers when Jerusalem was captured by Shalmaneser, King of 
Babylon, and the Jewish people, and their last king Zedekiah, 
were led away captive. This stone was preserved in the Temple 
and was popularly supposed to be the very one that Jacob laid 
his head upon when he dreamed he saw a ladder extend from 
earth to heaven and angels ascending and descending thereon.” 

“ Great Caesar’s Ghost ! ” exclaimed the Emperor, “ that must 
be a venerable and interesting lump of granite indeed. I guess 
old Barnum would have given a pretty big pile for it, and have 
made stacks of money by exhibiting it in his show.” 

“ But do you really believe this story, Canon ? ” said I. 

“ The Anglo-Israelites do at any rate, and they are a pretty 


274 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

numerous body of intelligent persons,’’ replied the Canon, “ but 
I confess I am rather agnostic in the matter, though it seems 
a plausible theory at any rate. The Anglo-Israelites maintain 
that Jeremiah brought along with him in addition to the above- 
named property, the daughter and only child of Zedekiah. That 
she married an Irish King, and that a direct descendant of hers, 
the heiress and sole representative of her house, married a King 
of Scotland, and that hence the present Monarch of England is 
the chief of the House of Israel, and in consequence these gen- 
tlemen (the Anglo-Israelites) maintain that the Anglo-Saxon 
race is really and truly the inheritors of the promises mentioned 
in the Bible, and assert besides that there is proof to show that 
they as constituting a part of the second wave of population that 
swept over Europe originally came from a tract of country that 
lies to the south of the Caspian, the exact spot where the lost 
ten tribes were supposed to have been located by the Assyrians 
after the capture of Samaria, and the overthrow of the Kingdom 
of Israel.” 

“ Well, Canon, you amaze me,” said the old man. “ You are 
a traveling library. I shall have to pay you a salary as family 
tutor. I am learning more from you than I ever picked up in 
the whole course of my life. But by gum, how pretty the river 
is here! What a number of boats, and over there is Hampton 
Court, and as I’m a sinner, we are approaching the spot where 
we are to meet the autos. I guess Dawlish knows where to stop. 
I see we are here first. I for one won’t be sorry to have break- 
fast. I told the chefs we should be ready for it soon. The 
cyclists now arrested their course, and as we came up to them 
the old man shouted : 

“ I conclude you are ready for your provender, you people.” 

“ You bet we are,” replied Jim, acting as spokesman for the 
crowd. 

“ We have had a lovely spin. Daddy,” said Dora. 

“ I have enjoyed it ever so much,” said my wife. 

“ Ah, wait till we are fairly on the Ripley Road,” said the 
Captain. “ It is called the Scorcher’s Paradise.” 

” I have often heard of it,” said Annie Leighton, “ but have 
never ridden on it.” Just then the autos hove in sight, and when 
they had stopped we all entered, by the Emperor’s orders, the 
Smoker, where the table was covered with a snowy cloth. The 
Boudoir was coupled on in front and the Kitchen car behind, and 


Luxurious Gipsying. 275 

the procession moved on at a fair pace, till it arrived at an 
open piece of common ground between Surbiton and Esher, on 
to which the cars were steered and a halt was called for break- 
fast. And how we did enjoy that meal to be sure. The early 
hour, the fresh air, the novelty of the thing had combined to lend 
to our appetites that delightful edge that made us appreciate the 
efforts of the French artists in a way we had never done before. 

“I say, Jim, my love,’' said Dora, laughing, “ you will burst 
if you eat any more, and I am sure you will be left behind when 
we mount our wheels.” 

” But, Dora, dear,” said Bella, ‘‘ if Jim were to bust I don’t 
quite see how he could get on his bicycle at all.” 

“ He will be more likely to bust the tires of his bike,” said 
Annie, laughing as she and the other ladies were rising in order 
to retire into the Boudoir to leave us men to smoke our cigars. 

“ The ladies seem to be enjoying themselves,” said I. 

“ What are we men doing all the time but the same old thing,” 
observed Jim, giving himself a mighty stretch, draining off a 
tankard of draught Bass, and lighting his pipe. 

“It it is true as is said, that the real way to be happy one’s self 
is to make others happy, then, Mr. Clark, you should be about the 
most contented man in the world,” said the Canon oracularly. 
The worthy churchman had the knack of giving vent to, at 
convenient moments, smooth, graceful, well-rounded sentiments 
which tickle the ear and flatter the feelings of the person or 
persons he happens to be addressing. 

The Emperor was obviously pleased and said : 

“ Thank you. Canon, I confess I feel pretty good. I never 
heard of any people who could put in a good time by themselves 
except old hermits. Just try a glass of this Morell’s cherry 
brandy, it seems to me to fill the bill.” 

“ I agree with your remark about the cherry brandy,” said 
the Canon, tossing off a small glass 6f that seductive fluid, “ but 
as for hermits and such like folk, I don’t call them men at 
all. They are probably the most selfish people in existence, their 
one thought is, or rather was (as one doesn’t hear much of 
these gentry now-a-days), to save their own dirty, worthless 
souls. Men are sociable animals or they amount to nothing at 
all.” 

When we were once more started, I left the Canon to enter- 
tain the Emperor on the coach while I got out my bike and 


276 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

paired off with Mrs. Clark, Dawlish and Annie being again in 
the lead, while Jim and my wife were close behind us, and at an 
interval of fifty yards came the coach, the other autos following, 
each being separated from the other by something like (what 
Jim would say) half a cable’s length. Thus the procession was 
strung out for nearly three-quarters of a mile of road. 

Mr. Clark had prescribed these intervals to avoid taking 
chances of collision. The buggy acted as a sort of tender to 
the coach. The Emperor carried a whistle around his neck, and 
directly he sounded this, the buggy at once left the line and came 
alongside to receive the Emperor’s instructions and to convey 
them to the cooks, butler or other servants. We six cyclists kept 
bunched together in order to hear the remarks of Captain Daw- 
lish (who knew every inch of the road) in regard to the names 
and associations of places of note we might pass. 

A little way past Sandown Park (which, of course, we were 
all acquainted with as we had been to several race meetings there 
during the late season) the Captain pointed out on our left an 
inn or tavern called the Black Bear, where he said a certain 
royal personage who passed in his checks near the close of the 
last century used to frequent. He went by the name of Farmer 
Duke among his boon companions, the rustics and clodhoppers 
of the vicinity. 

When we had traversed Cobham Common, the gallant Captain 
cried : 

“ Now, ladies and gentlemen, you are on one of the choicest 
bits of macadam in the world, so from here to Ripley I will 
set you an improved pace, and for the last mile we will make 
things hum a bit.” 

The Captain was right about the road, it was literally perfec- 
tion. I soon found that I had misjudged my partner’s pace and 
it was all I could do at first to keep up with her. Insensibly we 
neared the leading pair, though I could see Annie was hard at 
work. When we began to race, of course we men drew away 
from the ladies. Jim rushed up beside Dawlish, who I could see 
was not exciting himself, as he sat straight up and whirled 
round his cranks almost entirely by ankle work. Jim exhausted 
himself in vain endeavors to get away from his lengthy rival. 
The two young men gradually left me as youth will be served. 
When I judged that we were approaching the home stretch I 
glanced round, and saw, about twenty-five yards behind me, Mrs, 


Luxurious Gips3ang. 277 

Clark coming along at a good pace, leading Annie by about the 
length of her wheel, while my wife was fifty yards behind evi- 
dently quite outclassed. 

As I turned again to my work, I suddenly saw the Captain 
lean for the first time his long body over the handle bar of his 
hundred gear Humber, and in an instant he left Jim as if he 
were standing, though the latter spurted gamely in response. We 
were now entering the long straggling village of Ripley, and 
dashed gaily up the broad street, till at last to my relief, as I was 
getting well pumped, I saw the Captain stop and jump off his 
bike, a winner by a good twenty yards from Jim Clark, who had 
had quite enough of it. I was a bad third and was only about 
ten yards ahead of Dora, who finished wonderfully strong and 
well, fully that distance in front of her cousin, who was a good 
deal mare distressed than she was. My wife, who did not pre- 
tend to be a scorcher, came in one hundred yards behind Annie. 

“ Holy Moses, Cap,” said Jim, “ I didn’t know you could ride 
a bike like that. Why, you coul have whipped me by one 
hundred yards if you had been so minded.” 

“ Perhaps,” replied Dawlish, “ but you see I not only used to 
race a bit on a wheel, but I always keep myself in pretty good 
condition, and my bicycle has a higher gear than yours, Jim.” 

“ I say, Mrs. Clark,” said I, “ I congratulate you on your 
performance. How you must have been kidding in Richmond 
Park. I thought at first that Annie and the Captain were making 
a runaway match of it.” 

This remark of mine was blurted out in a most innocent man- 
ner, but it produced a great guffaw of laughter from Jim, a 
ripple of merriment from my wife and Dora, and served to 
visibly color the cheeks of the fair Annie, already reddened by 
the exercise she had taken, while the Captain said abruptly : 

‘‘ Come in and rest, ladies and gentlemen,” and he led the way 
into the little old-fashioned hostelry, with an indifferently exe- 
cuted picture of a blue anchor suspended from a kind of gallows 
in front of it. Mr. Clark and the Canon had by this time joined 
our party, and seemed to have been much interested in our race. 
We were conducted by the obsequious host into a little inner 
room while the servants congregated at the outside bar, one ad- 
vantage of autos is that they don’t require grooms to stand by 
their heads as horses do. 


278 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

Each of us men had a tankard of home-brewed ale supplied 
to him, and the ladies a glass apiece. 

When the host had informed us what the outlay was (it 
amounted to only a few shillings) the millionaire tossed him a 
ten-pound Bank of England bill, and told him to get his wife 
a present with the change. 

“ I am very much obliged, Mr. Clark,’’ said the Boniface, bow- 
ing low. When asked how he came to know the great man’s 
name, he replied that he had been told that Mr. Clark was com- 
ing to-day with a train of autos, by the men on the camp car, 
who had stopped on their way to the New Forest for a drink 
three days before. 

We were all pretty glad to stow away our bikes and take our 
places on the coach, and we had a good excuse in so doing, as 
the Captain said that most of the way to Winchester the road 
was nothing to brag about. 

Our procession evidently created quite a sensation in passing 
through the interesting town of Guildford. The autos glided 
easily down the steep incline and up the equally steep ascent 
that leads to the line of heights not inaptly termed “ The Hog’s 
Back,” along the summit of which the road runs for some miles, 
affording a splendid panoramic view, over a most beautiful 
countryside. The Canon and Dawlish pointed out the principal 
features in the scenery. A prominent eminence called the Hind- 
head in the direction of Portsmouth, the line of the Dorking 
Hills, and the far-away Sussex Downs standing out in bold 
outline across the fertile and variegated Wealden. Away to the 
south we could see the water of the English Channel glancing 
in the sun’s rays and the woody hills of Goodwood Park, the 
country seat of the Duke of Richmond and Gordon, and to 
the north we could just make out Kingsclere, the castle of Earl 
Craven, and almost at our feet Aldershot, the principal British 
military camping ground. 

Referring to the Blue Anchor, Dawlish told me that it used 
not to be an unusual thing for this hostelry to be visited by 
one hundred and fifty to two hundred cyclists of a Sunday morn- 
ing, and a goodly proportion of these would attend divine service 
at the adjacent village church, which was in consequence chris- 
tened by devout wheelists, “ The church of the Heavenly road.” 

We pursued our way at a fairly fast gait till we arrived at 
the city of Winchester,, where we made a stay of several hours. 


Luxurious Gipsying. 279 

during which the autos were recharged with electric power at 
a local storage station, Mr. Clark thinking it better to keep the 
storage batteries fully replenished at every available opportunity. 
We occupied the time in seeing over the Cathedral, and the great 
public school with its old-time domitories and class-rooms, and 
here we spent quite a while watching the boys playing a match 
at cricket. There is no mistake, cricket is a gentleman’s game. 
I can’t say quite the same of baseball. 

We also had a peep at the ruins of the Holy Cross Monastery 
and received, as is the old custom, a cup of ale and a manchet 
of bread apiece. 

Feeling quite refreshed we cyclists took to our wheels again 
and rode to Romsey Abbey, formerly one of the greatest in the 
country. It seems a pity that when the monasteries were dis- 
endowed, the splendid edifices connected with them should not 
have been preserved. My wife here took her place on the coach, 
leaving Dora and Annie to continue their ride, escorted by their 
three cavaliers. We reached the beautiful suburbs of the city 
of Southampton, but kept pegging away along a very good road 
till at length we arrived at Lyndhurst, where we were met by one 
of our grooms, who took his seat on the buggy, and gave us a 
lead to the camping ground. 

We were fairly surprised to find such a complete outfit. The 
camp is divided into two sections, one for our party and the 
other for the servants, and the location had been selected with 
great judgment, being partially concealed from the main road 
and the surroundings being very picturesque. 

All we cyclists were glad to retire to our tents to rest awhile 
before dressing for dinner. Though the ladies would not own 
up to it they were pretty well tired out. One sleeping tent was 
for us men, and the other for the ladies, consequently the two 
married couples were temporarily divorced. Everything that 
could contribute to our comfort and convenience had been done. 
Each bed was separated from the others by silken screens seven 
feet in height, while an open gangway runs down the center of 
the tent, which is lighted by incandescent electric lamps sus- 
pended from the roof; the current supplying them proceeding 
from small storage batteries. Adjoining the sleeping portion of 
the tent is a section containing shower and sponge baths, the 
water being pumped into rubber tanks through flexible tubes con- 
nected with a neighboring brook. 


28 o a 2oth Century Cinderella. 

The bedsteads are of aluminum with wire-woven mattresses, 
the most comfortable ever devised. The servants were soon on 
hand with our clothes. By the Emperor’s orders we did not on 
this occasion wear full evening dress, but our lounge smoking 
suits. 

When we had bathed and dressed we all felt infinitely re- 
freshed, and joined the ladies, whom we found seated in the cool 
of the evening outside the marquee where we were to dine. They 
all wore delightfully cool, pretty deshabilles, Dora’s being of 
an exquisite eau de nil China silk, open in front to show a petti- 
coat of India muslin. 

There was an abundance of rockers and of basket chairs 
that were specially made so as to be collapsible for convenience 
of transportation. I was surprised at the amount of stuff that 
had been carried in the camp car. Dinner was soon announced 
by the chief butler, and we sat down to as well-cooked a meal 
as we could have obtained in Park Lane. The cooks had been 
partly preparing the dinner during the last stage of our journey 
in order that we should not have to wait long on our arrival. 

It was as good as dining in the open air, as the sides of the 
tent were fully brailed up all round, so as to allow a full circula- 
tion of air. 

We were all loud in our praise of everything and overwhelmed 
the old man with congratulations. We did not make a long 
seance of it, as traveling in the open air and the exercise had 
made us all sleepy. I stayed up a little after the others had re- 
tired to partly write this day’s work of my diary up, and then 
followed my companions’ example, and was soon in the arms of 
Morpheus. 


A Forest Picnic. 


281 


CHAPTER V. 

A FOREST PICNIC. 


June 28, Tuesday. 

Though I slept profoundly, yet so strong is the force of habit, 
that I woke very early this morning. On looking at my watch 
I found that it was only a quarter past four. I felt perfectly 
rested, and determined to rise, as the present was too unique an 
experience to waste in bed. I believe nature intends one to get 
up when one awakes after a continuous spell of sleep, provided 
one is in good health, and the sleep has been a natural and a 
refreshing one. I stole noiselessly into the tent annex, and after 
a refreshing shower-bath, returned to my sleeping place, and 
dressed myself in my bicycle suit, which I found carefully 
brushed, and laid on a collapsible aluminum settee by my bedside. 
I made as little noise as possible in order not to disturb my com- 
rades, who appeared to be resting peacefully, one of them, whom 
I judged to be the Canon, snoring, but doing so in a dignified, 
gentlemanly fashion, not in the coarse, vulgar manner a Pitts- 
burg pig-iron broker or a third class dry goods drummer is 
in the habit of committing himself in a sleeping-car in my own 
country. 

I suppose it would not be possible to snore melodiously, still 
Shakespeare makes Titania say in the “ Midsummer Night’s 
Dream that “ she heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back uttering 
such dulcet and harmonious sounds that the rude sea grew civil 
at her breath,” etc. 

Fairies probablv have different ideas of harmony to what we 
mortals have. I have seen the wonderful trained seals in Fore- 
paugh & Sells’ circus, and I have heard the said animals’ extra- 
ordinary attempts at vocalism. I should judge that a mermaid, 
or in plain language a manatee or sea-cow, can’t be so far ahead 
of a seal in her singing capacity, though I never heard the former 
attempt a solo, still she rnust make a dissonant noise if her high 


282 


A 20th Century Cinderella. 

notes are pitched in the same demi, semi, minor, major key 
as her distant cousin, the seal. 

Of course all human beings do not possess the same ideas on 
such subjects as tone and tune. See with what complacency the 
hardy Scotchman can listen for hours to the (to me) hideous 
and discordant sounds of the squeaking bagpipe. Many of us 
can call to mind the shocking music in the Indian village at Buf- 
falo Bill’s famous show, when the braves were getting up steam 
for a war dance. Perhaps these Indians would say the same of 
a performance of the Gotterdammering at the Metropolitan, but 
on the other hand, they might hail Wagner as a great musical 
Sachem, one after their own hearts. 

But here was I in a real English forest, and I might almost 
expect to see the fairy elves engaged in making their rings on 
the long dewy grass. I was nearly writing dewy with a big D. 
How still our camp was. 

It isn’t the first time I have been in a camp. I was in one 
during the Spanish war for several months down in Florida with 
my volunteer regiment. I have been in mining camps in the 
great West, and hunting camps in Maine and New Brunswick. 
I have shot and skinned my game, and split the odorous pine 
logs to build the fire to cook the juicy steaks cut from elk or 
deer. Though I have had to pass most of my life in a great city, 
my heart has always been in the forest or on the plains, and 
whenever vacation time came in the fall, I would leave the dusty 
law courts and the stifling streets, and hurry with my rod and 
gun to the wild woods and the trout-haunted streams. 

My mother was an Englishwoman who came of a stock in 
which the hunting spirit is hereditary, and I feel that my sport- 
ing proclivities have been my salvation. 

To a man tired out by the strain and brain fag of sedentary 
professional labors, and by the late hours and excitement of 
New York life, the rest, the subdued pleasure and the fresh 
air and novelty of such annual excursions into the wilderness 
mean renewed youth, the clearing away of mental and moral 
cobwebs, and the revitalization of the whole jaded system. Bella 
usually accompanied me, and derived as much benefit as I did 
from these communings with nature. She learned to throw 
quite a good trout fly, and could bring down quail and partridges 
on the wing with her light double-barreled, hammerless, English 
fowling-piece with surprising accuracy. We also in the spring 


A Forest Picnic. 


283 

and early summer used to rush away at the week’s end and 
merrily swing our clubs on one of the several links on the 
Atlantic seaboard we are members of. Sunday was our chief 
golf day. 

While all these thoughts were thronging through my mind I 
found myself sauntering down one of the forest glades. What 
fine trees to be sure. It was of timber cut from such oaks as 
these that Britain’s wooden walls were built in days of yore. 
But English trees seem to grow in a different fashion to Ameri- 
can ones. Look at these oaks for instance ; there is plenty of 
room between them, they don’t jostle their neighbors, but with 
their low crowns, wide-spreading branches and deep roots, seem 
to be typical of the native character. They might almost seem 
to be animated by the transmigrated souls of old English 
worthies, slow-going, steadfast, reliable, niagnanimous, and 
patriotic, the last as evidenced by the tenacity with which these 
oaks cling to the soil, defying the blasts of the winter gales, and 
vulnerable only to the weakness of extreme old age, and to the 
lightning bolts from heaven. 

How different in this respect are the trees of an American 
forest, huddled together with hardly any horizontal development, 
stifling each other in their dense formation, tall, gaunt, early 
matured, shallow-rooted, liable to be leveled in broad swaths by 
the unsparing cyclone ; they seem to be typical of the American 
people, eager hustlers, quick, shrewd, competitive, precocious, 
impatient, crowding each other out in the unceasing race for 
wealth and position. 

I don’t mean to infer by this analogy that the true American 
is unpatriotic, quite the reverse; he is the most patriotic man 
in the world, but then the great mass of the population are not 
true Americans, but are aliens more or less. Their real father- 
land lies on the other side in Germany, Ireland, Italy and Russia ; 
they have no hereditary love for the land of the New World. 
Their grandchildren and possibly their children may have later 
on, but at present they are merely bound to the soil by self- 
interest. It is, indeed, only this that forms the connecting link 
between these heterogeneous masses, but it is incorrect to term 
this sentiment patriotism which in the average specimens of my 
countrymen and Britons might be compared to the roots of the 
American pine and the English oak respectively. 

As I continued my stroll I noticed many things ; here a rabbit, 


284 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

there a hare, started forth and ran across my path, perhaps a 
whirring sound denoted that I had flushed a pheasant or a part- 
ridge, while every tree and bush seemed alive with the twittering 
songs of the smaller feathered tribe. I noted a striking differ- 
ence between the wild inhabitants, both furred and feathered, of 
the English and American woods. 

I happened to spend the early years of my boyhood with my 
mother’s relatives in Yorkshire, England ; in fact, my first school 
was a small private boarding affair, by no means though of the 
type of the Yorkshire Academies pilloried under the name of 
“ Do-the-Boys’-Hall ” by Charles Dickens. 

I treasure most pleasant memories of the kindness I re- 
ceived at my school from the master, the friendships I formed 
among the boys, and the sorrow I experienced when my father 
transferred me to the fashionable Massachusetts public school of 
St. Paul’s, where I remained till I went to Yale. My father 
had at one time thoughts of sending me to Eton and Cambridge, 
but he feared if he did so that I should become too English. 
Among the arts and sciences I learned the rudiments of at Mr. 
Branscombe’s, were ornithology and the art of collecting birds’ 
eggs. Our school hours were very short. We were always 
allowed to do our lessons in cricket or football costume, and 
in playtime we could ramble at our own sweet will around the 
countryside. It is true we learnt more lessons from the books of 
nature than from those of man, but I never regretted the fact 
that Mr. Branscombe was a natural philosopher, and only valued 
Latin because a certain knowledge of that language is an absolute 
necessity to one who wishes to acquire the scientific nomenclature 
of birds, beasts, fishes, and plants. He took a great fancy to 
me because of my love for natural history, and would frequently 
excuse my attendance at afternoon school if I told him that I 
wished to hunt for the nest of a rare bird, or might possibly obtain 
for him a scarce specimen of flower or of insect. He was a 
kindly, eccentric man, and passed over ordinary boyish peccadil- 
loes almost unnoticed, but punished with merciless severity a lie 
or a wanton act of cruelty, more especially in the latter case if a 
dumb beast was the victim. I remember on one occasion a boy 
threw a live hedgehog into the fire. The prepetrator of the wanton 
deed was arraigned before the whole school, and caned with 
such vigor that he fainted, and had to be carried to bed, and bore 
the marks of the punishment on his person for months after- 


A Forest Picnic. 285 

wards, but it cured him, and he became one of the kindest boys 
to dumb creatures in the school. 

Well, to resume : from my previous knowledge of English out- 
door life, I was not surprised at the multitude of small birds 
who make the New Forest their home, and fearless of intruders, 
build their nests and bring up their young therein. I noticed in 
the course of my stroll such rare birds as the fire-crested wren, 
the Dartford warbler, and the great Tom l it, and lots of the 
common tribes of chaffinches, linnets, blackbirds, yellow ham- 
mers, robins and sparrows, and I spotted several specimens of 
the missel thrush, the ring ouzel, the butcher bird, the kestrel 
and sparrow hawk, the golden plover and others. 

I felt all my boyish instincts revive in me. What a cheerful 
place an English wood is compared with an American. The 
latter is nearly silent, the small birds are conspicuous by their 
absence. Occasionally one sees a robin, a blue jay or a crow, 
and possibly at considerable intervals a wood-pecker, and from 
time to time a great clumsy jack rabbit makes his appearance, 
and a so-called grouse or partridge settles on the branch of a 
tree within easy range of your gun, but complete solitude is 
the rule. 

The chief reasons for the rarity of small birds in America un- 
doubtedly are, first, the severity of the winter, and secondly, the 
scarcity of bird-food during the cold months, but there is also 
another reason. Every man in the States can carry a shot- 
gun without a license. In England a full game license costs three 
pounds or $15, and a mere gun license ten shillings, or $2.50, 
both annual. 

If in the States a man had to take out a license to kill any kind 
of game costing twenty-five dollars annually, and five dollars for 
merely the privilege of owning a shotgun, and suitable money 
penalties were attached to each several infringement of the law 
(the informer receiving half the fine), game and small birds, too, 
would soon increase in the States instead of, generally speaking, 
the reverse. 

All the laws that ever could be passed for the preservation of 
game or small birds will be of no avail without decreasing the 
number of guns which can only be done by compelling hunters 
to take out licenses. Granted that this is favoring the rich, it is 
better for the country that the killing of game be conducted by 
comparatively few persons, and that the quantity of game be 


286 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

steadily on the increase, than the certainty of entirely extirpating 
it by allowing all to shoot free. Game is, or ought to be, an 
important item of national food, as it is, the price, owing to its 
scarcity, is prohibitive in the Eastern States. A gun license in 
the same way protects the small birds from the city rough who 
kills them for the sake of the killing. 

How is it that game is plentiful and at times quite cheap in 
the London markets, whereas it is scarce and always dear in 
New York? Great Britain is a small island with an enormous 
and steadily increasing population. How is it that the produc- 
tion of game is steadily on the increase there? The answer is 
(i) because the game laws are properly enforced, (2) because 
the landed proprietors preserve game more and more, and (3) 
because game and gun licenses cost money, and therefore the 
number of guns is limited. 

Talking of American birds, several curious points may be 
noticed. Nearly all the birds in the Northern States and in 
Canada are migratory owing to the severity of the winter. It is 
estimated that the tiny Ittle honey bird, not much larger than a 
big bumble bee, travels south nearly 1,000 miles on the approach 
of the cold weather. Though he has a red breast, the American 
robin is unquestionably of a different species to his English name, 
sake, and is at least four times as large. In the same way the 
American partridge is totally dissimilar to the English bird of 
that name, being very much larger and roosts and perches in 
trees where the hunter deliberately pots it, whereas the English 
partridge is invariably shot on the wing. The two, indeed, be- 
long to different species. All large black birds in America are 
called crows, but here again a great mistake is made, as the rooks 
are quite distinct from the carrion crows and jackdaws. The first 
named (the rooks) are gregarious, while the two latter are soli- 
tary livers, and these three again are not of the same nature at 
all^ the carrion crows being carnivorous, whereas the jackdaw 
and rook only eat grain and seeds, if they cannot obtain a supply 
of v/orms and insects. The rook is the farmer's friend, or at 
keast he should be considered so. No discrimination is shown, 
however. But then in my country people call nearly all flying 
insects “ bugs ” except flies and mosquitoes. 

The early settlers in the States were simple, unscientific people 
and casually used the names known to them in the old country 
to denominate birds and four-footed creatures found in the new. 


A Forest Picnic. 


287 


I think the blue jay is the most distinctive wild bird I ever saw 
in the States. But 1 could go on filling pages of my diary on 
this, to me, very interesting subject. 

I found that I had (absorbed in my meditations) wandered 
quite a distance from the camp, and so had to retrace my foot- 
steps, having thoroughly enjoyed my morning ramble. What a 
lot we miss by the unnatural hours we society and business 
people are obliged by force of circumstances to keep. 

The camp was still asleep as I entered the marquee, and for 
about an hour I scribbled away in my diary. Then a footman 
entered in undress uniform to tidy things up, and to lay the 
cloth for breakfast. I entered into conversation with him about 
the arrangements, and found that the butler, the coachman, the 
two chefs, and the two engineers occupied one sleeping tent, 
the rest of the helps the other ; there being a marquee for meals 
(similar to ours) where all the servants and people fed together. 

I worked at my diary a bit longer and was finally interrupted 
by the appearance of our Queen. 

“ The top of the morning to you. Judge. You know the 
proverb about the early bird and the worm.” 

“ I am afraid I am not very birdlike, Mrs. Clark,” I replied, 
laughing, “and I don’t like worms, though the (the worms) will 
enjoy us all some day. But I have seen a good many members 
of the feathered tribe this morning in the course of my peregri- 
nations, and I had to be up betimes in order to keep abreast with 
my duties in my capacity of chronicler in chief to our party. 
But what is the program to-day ? ” 

“We go to Beaulieu first and return by another road, and 
have lunch at Rufus Stone, and then proceed to Ringwood, to 
which place the camp will be moved to-day,” replied Mrs. Clark. 

“ You’ve got your lesson off pat, my dear,” said the old man 
as he entered the marquee. “ Well, Slocum, I am afraid you 
did not sleep well, judging by the unearthly hour you got up by. 
Fancy, Dora, this learned gentleman left his, I trust, not uncom- 
fortable couch, soon after 4 a. m.” 

“ I hope I did not wake you, sir,” I said. 

“ Oh, no, I am an early waker, but not like you an early riser, 
though I used to be when I was a rancheman in the old days, 
which after all are not a great while ago. 

We take the coach, the buggy and the boudoir car with us 


288 


A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

to-day, and I have ordered a cold lunch, quite a simple affair, to 
be sent to Rufus’ Stone.” 

“Oh, isn’t it all perfectly charming?” cried Bella, as she 
tripped into the tent followed by the rest of the party. 

“ It will be more lovely,” said Jim, “ when we have some break- 
fast inside us. I’ve got the same class of appetite I used to have 
when camping on the plains in the West.” 

“ We shall have to be careful what we say, friends,” said the 
Canon, “ I believe the Judge has got a phonograph fixed up some- 
where. He showed me last night a bit of his diary of yesterday’s 
proceedings, and he has reported our conversations pretty well 
verbatim. He is a sort of Recording Angel to the expedition.” 

“ This is the first time,” said I, “ that I ever heard a lawyer 
likened unto an angel ; he is generally described as a kind of 
first cousin once removed to his Infernal Majesty, so. Canon, I 
take this as the greatest compliment you could possibly pay me.” 

As the day was still young there was no occasion to hurry our 
little selves, in fact the filling up of every spare minute and a 
clock-like punctuality simply spoil an otherwise jolly outing. In 
some country houses every moment of the day is mapped out with 
the minuteness Mr. Cook displays in his personally conducted 
tours. The guests are treated like automata or marionettes, 
which shoot out their arms and legs, and perform all manner of 
contortions on certain strings being pulled. There exist such 
persons as over-hospitable entertainers whose paternal solicitude 
for the amusement of their guests turn them (the entertainers) 
into dreaded bores. 

But our host was certainly not one of this class. Like a skil- 
ful commander-in-chief he sketched out the general plan of opera- 
tions, leaving to the various divisions plenty of latitude for the 
display of individual initiative. So after breakfast there was a 
clear interval of a couple of hours in which we either strolled 
about the forest in the immediate vicinity of the camp, wrote our 
letters or sat in comfortable lounge chairs outside the marquee, 
surveying the pleasant scene and breathing in the pure woodland 
air. 

At last the word to mount was given, and we cyclists were soon 
careering along a fairly good road under the guidance of the 
watchful Dawlish, who, of course, had as his riding companion 
the fair Annie. 

The Canon and the Emperor followed us in the buggy, which 


A Forest Picnic. 


289 

in its turn was sticceded by the coach and the Boudoir. In this 
order we visited Beaulieu and explored the ruins of an ancient 
monastery. Here the Norman and Angevin Monarchs used to 
possess a hunting lodge which has since entirely disappeared. 
From Beaulieu we made a winding detour which at last landed 
us at Rufus’ Stone, where we found an appetizing cold lunch 
laid out under the wide spreading branches of a fine old oak tree. 

At Dora’s request this was a regular gipsy picnic, and we 
waited on ourselves. The servants who had arranged the meal 
had their lunch to themselves under a neighboring tree. 

It was jolly, after we had eaten our fill and we men had 
lighted our cigars and pipes, to lay around on the cool grass in 
the deep shade gazing through the leaves of the overhanging 
branches, listening to the birds singing and the flies (bad luck 
to them) buzzing and watching the white clouds chasing each 
other in the distance. In one of the forest glades a herd of deer 
was peacefully cropping the succulent herbage. How (by the 
way) the New Forest flies bite ; they are as bad as mosquitoes. 

“ Does that stone really mark the spot where William Rufus 
met his death by an arrow shot from the bow of Sir Walter 
Tyrrel ? ” said I, addressing the Canon. 

“ It is supposed to do so,” replied the churchman. “ On the 
ground where the stone stands there flourished an oak of a fab- 
ulous age against which the arrow (so tradition says) glanced, 
and in so doing struck the king. According to the commonly 
accepted version Sir Walter let loose at a stag and made a wild 
miss, and hence the happy disaster. I say happy, for the king 
was a mere hoggish sensualist, lacking all of the great qualities of 
his father The Conqueror, and only resembling him in his cruelty 
and love of the chase. However, according to another report. Sir 
Walter really meant to slay the tyrant against whom he had a 
grudge, anyway he thought it prudent to skip over to Normandy 
and hide hfmself in his strong feudal castle there. All we know 
for certain is that an oak tree did really stand over there, and it 
was either destroyed by lightning, or cut down by the ax of the 
woodman about the close of the seventeenth century; just about 
the time when the last aboriginal inhabitant of Cornwall (an old 
woman) who could speak the Cornish language (something akin 
to Welsh) departed this life, and the last specimen of the great 
bustard known to exist in England was slain on Salisbury Plain. 

19 


290 


A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

A simultaneous wiping out of three links with the hoary past that 
is somewhat remarkable.” 

“ The Forest laws were terribly severe in the middle ages, were 
they not, uncle ? ” said Dora, who I could see was intent on 
drawing the Canon out. 

“ They were not only severe, but horribly barbarous,” replied 
the churchman. “ In the Royal Forests the deer were looked upon 
as absolutely the private property of the King. The penalty for 
shooting at one was the loss of the right hand, and if the animal 
was killed, the offender was liable to summary execution. The 
Norman Barons who dispossessed the Saxon Thegns at the Con- 
quest asserted the same privileges in their private domains. The 
greater Abbots and Churchmen were feudal lords and loved hunt- 
ing just as much as their secular brethren, and were just as brutal 
as they were, in the preservation of the game. One of the con- 
sequence of these savage regulations, coupled with the natural 
effect of the lawlessness of the times, and of the bitter oppression 
of the native Saxons, was to drive numbers of persons to lead the 
lives of outlaws in the woods, where they frequently rendered 
themselves, like Robin Hood and his merrie men, formidable on 
account of their numbers, and of the skill with which they handled 
their weapons, the long bows that afterwards were used by their 
descendants, and more especially by the Welsh archers, with such 
fatal accuracy in the French and Scotch campaigns of the Ed- 
wards and of the Henries.” 

“Did Robin Hood cavort around these parts. Canon?” said 
Jim, who was (as were we all) much interested in what the 
churchman had been saying. 

“ No, Jim,” replied the ecclesiastic, “ Robin Hood, who lived 
in the reign of Richard 1. and of his brother John, carried on 
his bandit business in the Forests of Sherwood, Needwood, and 
Charnwood, which lie, or rather lay (as only small fragments of 
them exist now), partly in Nottinghamshire and partly in York- 
shire. There is little doubt that Robin Hood was a real personage, 
though a number of incredible stories and legends have grown 
up around his name. But the same may be said of any other 
popular characters of illiterate times, such as King Arthur and St. 
Dunstan.” 

“ Granted,” said Dawlish, “ that the feats with the long-bow 
performed by Robin Hood and others have been absurdly 
exaggerated; still, there can be no question that it was a very 


A Forest Picnic. 


291 


death-dealing weapon, and we have it on the authority of Stowe 
that a good archer could shoot twelve arrows a minute with suf- 
ficient accuracy up to 300 yards, and these, mind you, were 
barbed, cloth yard shafts 33 inches long, capable even at that 
range of piercing armor of man and horse and of inflicting 
wounds immensely more terrible and fatal than any produced by 
rifle bullets. I always wondered that the arquebus, the wheel 
lock, and afterwards the flint lock muskets with their extreme 
inaccuracy and slowness in loading ever took the place of the long 
and cross-bows,” said Dawlish. 

” That has puzzled many people besides yourself,” replied the 
Canon, “ and the only valid answer I ever read of was that archery 
required constant practice from boyhood upwards to train the 
muscles to the effort of drawing the bow with sureness of aim. 
In the days when the bow was the national weapon, every able- 
bodied man or boy of a certain condition in life was compelled 
by law to practice continually, especially on Sundays, shooting a 
certain number of arrows at the village butts, and the great landed 
proprietors who had to furnish their quota of archers as well as 
of men-at-arms to the National levies took care that this was done. 
But the decay of the feudal system and the substitution of scutage 
or money payments in the place of personal service contributed 
to the neglect of archery, consequently the experts with the bow 
got scarcer and scarcer, until they had to be replaced by muske- 
teers entirely. Though the men of the present day are on the 
average fully as strong as, or even stronger physically, than those 
of the Middle Ages, extremely few could now be found who would 
be able even to pull a cloth yard shaft to its head with a war 
bow of those days. The bows that are used by gentlemen at 
archery meetings are mere toys compared with the powerful 
weapons employed with such awful effect at Crecy and Agincourt. 
Why is it ? Simply because we moderns have not been trained to 
the practice of archery from our youth. It is the same with any- 
thing else. Take weight lifting, for instance. A porter on a rail- 
way will raise and handle a piece of freight or luggage that a far 
stronger but unskilled man could barely move at all.” 

“ That is true, sir,” said Dawlish, “ but that doesn’t account 
for the disappearance of the cross-bow, a very deadly instrument 
indeed, with a range equal to the early rifles of the first half of 
the nineteenth century.” 

“ No more it does, and the only reason I can advance,” said 


292 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

the Canon, “ was the liability of the strings to become relaxed in 
wet weather, rendering the weapon nearly useless. A notable 
instance to the point being the failure of the Genoese cross-bow- 
men, owing to the relaxed strings of their pieces at the battle of 
Agincourt. But the whole subject is a very perplexing one. It 
is remarkable that one of the wisest men that ever lived, Benjamin 
Franklin, recommended the use of the long-bow during the Revo- 
lutionary War, though his advice was not adopted.” 

“ It doesn’t require a great effort of imagination,” said Annie 
Leighton, “ to conjure up groups of foresters dressed in Lincoln 
green jerkins, with yew bows in their hands and quivers full of 
cloth yard shafts at their backs peopling these forest glades.” 

“ All this talking makes one very thirsty,” said Jim, as he 
seized a flagon of claret cup, and pledging the Canon, buried his 
face in it, took a deep draught and with a sigh passed it on to the 
ecclesiastic. 

“ That’s nectar indeed,” said the Canon, after taking a vigorous 
pull ; “ your butler is an artist, Mr. Clark.” 

“ I guess he knows his business,” replied the old man, “ and 
he ought to, as he has been in the service of some tip-top swells.” 

“ I never met an American man servant who was worth a row 
of pins,” said I. 

“ We don’t breed them,” said the old man. “ Our fellows look 
on livery as a badge of servitude.” 

“ The domestic help business is the great difficulty for well-to- 
do people in the States,” said my wife, who at that moment re- 
joined the party, as she and Dora had slipped away during the 
archery discussion and had a little stroll in the forest all to their 
sweet selves. 

“ It is so serious a difficulty,” I said, “ that many American 
families, rather than face it, live on this side.” 

“ I think it must be the fault of the masters and mistresses,” 
said Dawlish. 

“No, I don’t think that’s so,” replied the old man; “the fact 
is, domestic service in the States stirs up recollection of the old 
slave days.” 

Just then Dora, with a smile on her face, cried out, “ Oh, here's 
a gipsy woman ; come, let’s have our fortunes told ; Annie, vou 
shall be first.” 

“ All right, dear,” said the fair Annie, “ it would be superfluous 
to tell yours, anyhow, Dora.” 


A Forest Picnic. 


293 

The woman was summoned, and her hand having been liberally 
crossed with silver, she took Annie’s in her own and proceeded 
after a long scrutiny of its lines to read the future in the usual 
mysterious manner. She said that she, Annie, would marry a 
tall, fair man who had been in India and California, and was now 
in England, and that she would be very happy, and that the mar- 
riage would take place in Kent in a town she could not quite make 
out the name of. 

Poor Annie blushed furiously and Dawlish looked very sheepish 
and uncomfortable. Then Bella’s turn came, and I really was 
quite startled at the facts that were revealed. 

When the gipsy was gone, Dora said: 

“ Wasn’t that too wonderful ! I shall always believe in fortune- 
telling for the future.” 

To tell the truth, I, myself, was rather staggered at the gipsy’s 
revelations, and I could see that the Canon was no little surprised 
also, but a merry twinkle both in Dora’s as well as in Bella’s eyes 
told me that it probably was a put-up job, and I determined to 
find out how it was done at a convenient opportunity. 

Just then Dora exclaimed : 

“ Now, good friends, we will do some gipsying on our own ac- 
count,” and she rang a little hand bell and the butler approached. 

“We will have tea now. Burton, so make the fire, please.” 

The butler retired, and soon the footman was engaged in build- 
ing up a fire on the grass with some small billets of wood he 
produced from the wagon, and fixing up an iron three-legged 
tripod over it, to its apex he fastened an iron chain on which was 
suspended a good-sized kettle full of water. 

The footman then laid the tea things on the grass, including 
cake, bread and butter, chocolate, candies, a great pile of splendid 
strawberries and a china bowl filled with delicious ice-cream. 

Dora made the tea when the water began to boil, and soon we 
had forgotten all about the gipsy woman and her predictions. 

“ Wonders will never cease. From whence, in the name of 
goodness, my dear Dora,” said the Canon, addressing his niece, 
“ was this lovely ice-cream conjured from in the woods here- 
These strawberries, too, are the finest I have ever seen.” 

“ Ask Daddy ; you have never inspected the wagon, uncle,” re- 
plied Dora. 

So, after our repast, the Emperor showed us the secrets of the 
machine that had conveyed the two servants and the lunch to the 


294 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

scene of action. The wagon was a covered auto, designed to carry 
two persons in front and two behind. In the center were divers 
receptacles for carrying meat, fish, poultry, fruit, etc. All sur- 
rounded with ice and sawdust. In fact, it was a portable re- 
frigerator artfully constructed. There was a small tank capable 
of holding the largest salmon, and a special section for ice-cream, 
where it could be kept frozen. 

“ The wagon,” said the Emperor, “has been to Southampton 
this morning to get the supplies I have ordered to be sent down 
from town. I do not depend on local markets for our table. 
There is a special machine for making ice on the utility car. So 
now you know all about it.” 

Of course I knew all about it before, and so did Dora, to whom 
the Emperor and I confided everything, but it was all news to the 
others, and it caused them to feel and express much astonishment 
at the cleverness and forethought displayed in the contrivance of 
this admirable machine, which was for the special use of the Em- 
peror and his party, the provisions for the servants being pur- 
chased as we went along at neighboring local shops and markets. 

We enjoyed the ride to Ringwood, where we found on our 
arrival the camp had been pitched in a delightful spot on the edge 
of the forest. As the day had been brilliantly fine and very 
warm, we were none of us sorry to retire to our tents and have 
a nap before dressing for dinner. 


A British Coney Island. 


29S 


CHAPTER VI. 

A BRITISH CONEY ISLAND. 

June 29, Wednesday. 

I CONFESS that the task of pedaling along the sandy roads of 
the New Forest had its effect on me, and I did not employ the 
early hours in communing with nature and in filling the pages of 
my diary, for while the birds were twittering forth their gladsome 
morning hymns, the luxurious ease of lying in that blissful, semi- 
conscious state, hovering betwixt the confines of slumber and 
wakefulness, chained me to my camp bedstead. 

I think this is the most restful and delightful period of the 
twenty-four hours or thereabouts which our little globe takes in 
turning around its axis. On such occasions I prefer to stretch 
myself on my back with my two hands clasped behind my head, 
and let my mind do its business automatically. What queer, 
bright thoughts come thronging unbidden. I am inclined to 
think that most of the great laborers in the literary world do 
their best work in this condition, especially writers of fiction and 
poets. I can imagine the latter class (I may say parenthetically 
that I scribble verses at times myself) always taking care to 
have by their couches, pencils and paper in order to be able to 
fix the happy rhymes in flowing verse before the impressions 
have died away like dissolving views from the gray matter of their 
fertile brains. How cheerful it was to feel that I could lie as 
long as I liked, and that I hadn’t to get up to prepare myself 
for another day’s grind in that eternal office in the Times Build- 
ing, New York. 

No, there was an end to all my toil, disappointments and 
worry. How I blessed old man Clark, and determined to de- 
vote my energies to showing gratitude to my benefactor. Just 
as I was pondering on my marvelous good fortune, a large wet 
sponge struck me full in the face and the cheery voice of the 
son of my said benefactor rang in my startled ears. 


296 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

‘‘ Come, get up, Judge, breakfast will be ready in half an hour. 
You are a fraud. I claim to be the early bird. Why, I have 
been about for a couple of hours and have been knocking over 
blackbirds in the forest with my six-shooter.” 

Jim stood at the foot of my bed looking the incarnation of 
strong, healthy manhood. He was dressed as became the owner 
of a yacht, in peaked cap and double-breasted round coat of dark 
blue cloth trimmed with gold braid and buttons, with white 
duck trousers and low tan Oxford shoes. 

“ You can’t often boast, Jim,” I replied, “ of the honor of being 
ahead of me in the morning. Besides, I am a wee bit older than 
you, and I hadn’t the educational advantages you have had in 
herding cattle and lying in wait for grizzly bears. Besides, I 
don’t believe you ever felt tired in your life, you man of hard- 
ened aluminum.” 

“What’s all this racket about?” said Dawlish, his tall figure 
appearing on the scene of action. 

“ Oh, I’ve got the Judge rattled,” said Jim, laughing, “ be- 
cause I chaffed him about being lazy.” 

“ Jim came like a cyclone,” said I, “ and interrupted, by means 
of a skilfully directed sponge, a very valuable train of thought.” 

“ My valuable train of thought is entirely directed to mutton 
chops and deviled kidneys,” said Jim with an explosion of 
laughter, as he lit his pipe and proceeded to wake up his sire 
and the Canon. I don’t know if the heartless Jim launched a 
wet sponge at the worthy churchman, but I heard a terrific yawn 
accompanied by several, what sounded like, unclerical expres- 
sions ; but I trust I was mistaken.- 

By this time I had leapt from my bed clad in pajamas, and 
a prolonged shower bath made me feel once more a man capable 
of performing valiant and noble actions. I was soon dressed in 
a plain, unpretending costume of dark blue serge. We had had 
our orders overnight from the Queen that there was to be no 
cycling to-day, so the homely trousers took the place of neat work- 
manlike breeches and stockings. 

As I entered the marquee I perceived the Queen and her 
consort. His arm was round her waist and their lips were 
glued together in one of those entrancing, loverlike kisses, in 
which two minds and souls seem to be mutually absorbed in 
ecstatic union; her arms were thrown round his neck, his were 
tightly clasped round her waist, while her head was pressed back 


A British Coney Island. 297 

by the exuberance of his caresses. Then I Heard each draw 
breath and then Jim exclaimed: 

“ How perfectly lovely you look, my darling! ** and after say- 
ing this he literally deluged her with ardent kisses, she holding 
up her face to receive them. 

There was no mistake about these two loving each other. It 
was a pleasing spectacle. But as Jim’s back was turned to the 
entrance they had not (so engrossed were they in each other) 
perceived my entrance. So I though it right to apprise them 
of the fact that they were not alone, and was on the point of 
gently coughing, when a merry laugh in my rear informed me 
that any precautionary measure on my part was superfluous, for 
the old man and the Canon, arm in arm, were following closely 
on my tracks. The laugh came from the former, who exclaimed : 

“ What, billing and cooing, my two turtle-doves ? Well, that 
is as it should be. I like to see it.” 

The happy pair quickly disengaged themselves in some con- 
fusion from each other’s arms, Dora blushing like a rose, and 
with a rippling laugh, proceeded to rearrange her disordered 
hat, while Jim picked up his cap from the ground. 

“ Well, my dear,” said the old man, “ since kissing is the 
order of the day, I think your uncle and I should have our 
share.” With which modest suggestion Dora gracefully com- 
plied. 

“ I feel rather left in the cold,” said I. 

“ Give the Judge a kiss, darling,” said Jim with a roar of 
laughter. 

Upon my soul, I don’t know whether the sweet Dora wouldn’t 
have presented her fair cheek to me, and I certainly could not, 
if she had, have refused so tempting an offer, but at that psychi- 
cal moment Bella made her appearance. Of course she must have 
heard the conversation; but she is a real good pal and doesn’t . 
know what jealousy is, so she ran between us and first embraced 
Dora and then me, and laughingly exclaiming: \ 

“ There I have taken the kiss intended for you, Uriah, but 
you can have one if Jim doesn’t object, and I will pardon you, 
for anything in petticoats more kissable than our Queen doesn’t 
exist on this mortal sphere.” And dear Bella and lovely Dora 
twined, in American fashion, their arms mutually around each 
other’s waists, making a most charming picture. 

Dora looked indeed most bewitching in an exquisite costume 


298 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

of white serge trimmed with gold lace, made in tailor fashion, 
with open coat to show a white silk blouse with gold buttons. 
She wore a white straw sailor hat with white satin ribbon, and 
dainty shoes of the same color. A gold belt encircled her 
waist, the buckle of which formed the monogram S. D. A. in 
sapphires and diamonds. 

My wife did herself full justice in a very chic Princess dress 
of white batiste over white taffeta. Her hat was a white picture 
one, similar to Dora’s, a dainty confection of chantilly lace and 
ostrich feathers. 

Dora wore at her waist a bunch of moss roses ; my wife sported 
American Beauties, which the old man specially imported. 

The two ladies were evidently posing. I like women who lay 
themselves out to win the admiration of men rather than to 
excite the envy, hatred and malice of members of their own sex. 
A very common failing indeed. 

At this instant Dawlish, accompanied by Annie Leighton, 
entered the tent. It certainly looked suspiciously like as if they 
had been having a stroll and a tete-d-tete. The old man ex- 
claimed : 

“ Hie, you people, you have just missed a stunning kissing 
bee. But I guess it’s not too late to take a hand,” and after 
Annie had saluted her parent, the old man drew the blushing 
girl towards him and imprinted a smacking buss on her cheek. 

Annie certainly had not neglected her appearance as far as 
dress was concerned, as she wore a pretty, simple costume of white 
nuns-veiling and ecru lace, with a large leghorn hat and blush 
roses. 

Both she and Dawlish had looked rather sheepish at the 
Emperor’s pointed remark, and were evidently relieved by the 
servants entering with the breakfast. I suppose the forest air is 
conducive to the assimilation of food, for we all (including the 
ladies) showed that we were possessed of particularly noble 
appetites. 

During the meal the Canon remarked that we ought to have 
some Christchurch salmon, as it is supposed to be the best in 
the world. 

What’s the matter with the salmon caught in the Usk and 
the Severn? ” said Dawlish. 

“ Well, they are good enough,” replied the Canon, '' but the 


A British Coney Island. 299 

Christchurch fish rank the highest in the opinion of the con- 
noisseurs.” 

“ I wish I had known this before,” said the old man. ‘‘ The 
Scotch salmon my London fishmonger sends me are of fine qual- 
ity, but of course a fish that has been cold-stored is not so good 
as one freshly caught.” 

“We will see what we can do when we are in Bournemouth,” 
said the Canon, and the subject dropped. 

The order of the day was that we should go on the coach, 
accompanied by the Boudoir and Smoker to Corfe Castle, and 
after lunch proceed to Bournemouth, and having had tea and a 
stroll on the pier and along the sea front, should return in time 
for dinner. 

We all mounted the coach, the ladies in dust cloaks. But after 
quitting the forest, a southwesterly wind sprung up which, 
though it tempered the heat which was excessive, blew clouds 
of dust in our faces. The ladies, who had an eye, not only to 
their comfort, but more especially to their toilets, unanimously re- 
quested our motorman, Mr. Clark, to pull up, and expressed a 
wish to seek shelter in the Boudoir accompanied by Jim and Daw- 
lish, while the Canon, the Emperor, and I followed their example 
by entering the Smoker; this division for a time answering very 
well, as the Canon, who generally monopolizes most of the con- 
versation, though very instructive and sometimes entertaining, 
was a trifle ponderous and learned, and cannot often come off 
his perch and discuss the frills and frivolities which young people 
(especially if they are ladies) delight to indulge in. Besides, the 
Canon rarely can see a joke-; in fact, his fund of humor is a very 
limited one. 

As for myself, I enjoyed the learned Canon’s society just as 
much as the Emperor did, so this mutually agreed upon temporary 
separation was to the taste of all parties. 

The order of the autos was changed ; the coach, which was 
now controlled by a spare motorman, brought up the rear so that 
we should not get the benefit of the dust it raised, and the 
Boudoir was in the lead about a furlong ahead of us. 

The autos were now sent along at their best pace, in order to 
cover the ground as speedily as possible. The roads were fairly 
good, though a bit loose, owing to the continuance of the dry 
spell. We arrived at our destination in good time and spent a 
couple of hours in the castle, which was for a time the scene of 


300 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

the imprisonment of King Charles First, previous to his trial and 
execution. 

Corfe Castle is situated on a kind of promotory near the fishing 
village of Swanage in the county of Dorset. We had arranged 
to have our lunch (which had been stowed away in the coach) 
on a piece of common land about a couple of miles from the 
castle, in order to insure privacy, as the excursion steamers from 
Weymouth and Bournemouth had brought a whole crowd of 
rather tough-looking summer resorters, who stood in groups, 
wondering at our aluminum autos and the smart costumes of our 
ladies. Just as we had arrived at our picnic ground a heavy 
thunderstorm that had been threatening since the morning broke 
upon us, accompanied by a deluge of rain. We immediately took 
refuge in the Smoker, into which vehicle the lunch was trans- 
ferred. I then appreciated the wisdom of taking with us such 
a harbor of refuge, which made us independent of the weather. 
The autos were turned off the road onto the grass and we pro- 
ceeded to make ourselves comfortable, the Boudoir being 
hitched on to the Smoker. After we had got through, the 
servants had their lunch. 

“ I guess we might be worse off than this,’’ said the old man, 
lighting a cigar. 

“ I don’t see, sir,” replied I, “ how we could be much better off 
under the circumstances.” 

“What do you think of the castle, Mr. Clark?” said the 
Canon. 

“ It is a pretty slick old ruin,” replied the Emperor, “ but I 
guess I wouldn’t have cared to have lived in such a place. The 
King must have had a measly time of it. How did he happen 
to get there, anyhow ? ” 

“ He was taken there by one Cornet Joyce at the instigation 
of Oliver Cromwell, who really wished to save him from the 
fanatics of the Independent party who were seeking his death, 
Plenty of facilities were given His Majesty to escape to France, 
but he did not avail himself of them, and occupied his time in 
plotting against his would-be preserver.” 

“ What a darned fool ! ” replied the old man. “ So they 
chopped off his head. I don’t pity him.” 

“ No more do I,” said the Canon. “ If I had lived in those 
days I should have sided with the Parliament. One of my an- 
cestors fought in the ranks of Cromwell’s Ironsides.” 


301 


A British Coney Island. 

Do you favor a Republic, sir ? ” said Dawlish. 

“ No, sir. I am a loyal subject of His Majesty the King of 
England. But then he is a very limited monarch, whereas 
Charles First wanted to be a very unlimited one; in fact, he 
Vvished to place himself above the law and the Parliament and 
to rule as a despot. But he hadn’t the strength of character to 
do so, for he was no Cromwell or Napoleon. He was morally, 
I believe, a decent character as far as kings go, which isn’t say- 
ing much. And if he had any liaisons he conducted them in a 
private, gentlemanly fashion, unlike his blackguardly son, Charles 
Second, who was a foul, heartless reprobate. But the worst of 
Charles First (who had a very weak, vacillating character) was 
that he was a moral, though by no means a physical coward, 
and was (like all the Stuarts) false to both friend and foe. Look 
how he deserted his zealous supporters, Stafford and Laud, and 
broke his word with Cromwell. He would not go straight, and 
seemed to see everything through a distorted mirror. It is a 
marvel to me how his nobility fought, died and beggared them- 
selves in the service of such a man. But then they believed in the 
Divine right of kings.” 

“ But don’t you. Canon ? I thought all English churchmen be- 
lieved in that, founding their opinion on the Scriptures,” said I. 

The Canon smiled grimly. We have changed all that. We 
churchmen have to move with the times, we are not such fools 
as you laymen suppose.” 

“ I never put you down for a fool. Canon,” I replied, “ far 
from it. I think you are a very wise man, indeed.” 

“ Then you have a better opinion of me than I have of myself,” 
replied the churchman. “ The fact is, sir, we, the spiritual 
advisers of the people, are wofully like the common or garden 
kind of humans. We are men of like passions with you. We 
certainly nowadays find it a terribly hard task to steer a course 
between hide-bound orthodoxy and scientific agnosticism, and fre- 
quently come to grief in consequence. There are hundreds of 
parsons who would throw up their jobs if they knew^ of any 
alternative plan of feeding themselves and their families.” 

I was surprised at these outspoken, cynical and almost frankly 
brutal sentiments proceeding out of the mouth of our worthy and 
courtly Canon, but I said nothing, and the conversation changed 
into more frivolous channels. The storm having cleared away. 


302 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

we gave the sun time to partly dry the roads before proceeding 
to our next halting place, Bournemouth. 

On our journey to Corfe Castle we had gone a round-about 
way by a place called Minister, as we Americans wanted to lose 
no opportunities of seeing rural England, of which we all of 
us had heard so much, though I from my boyish experiences was 
pretty familiar with certain phases of it, but my ramblings when 
at the Yorkshire academy had been chiefly confined to unculti- 
vated grouse moors, which from their very wildness have a charm 
of their own, still at the same time are apt to be monotonous in 
their character, and coloring, and lack the variety and delightful 
alternations of woodland, pasture, and arable that make the 
landscape in the southern counties of England so restful and sat- 
isfactory to the eye. 

We passed through the very ancient town of Poole; in 
medieval times, a place of considerable commercial importance, 
which accounts for the fact that the recordship of the borough 
(Poole, previous to 1832, returned two members to the House of 
Commons) was a coveted post to which was attached considerable 
emoluments. Several eminent lawyers at different times were 
glad to accept an office which was really a richly endowed sine- 
cure, as it was customary to hire a substitute to perform the work, 
the boss himself rarely going near the place. Now Poole is a 
sleepy country town with a small coasting trade chiefly in fish and 
coal. 

In approaching Bournemouth, which is a matter of only four 
miles frorn Poole, we passed through the remnants of the pine 
woods which once covered this part of the country. Bourne- 
mouth is said to owe a considerable portion of its reputation of 
salubrity to the said pine woods, and the land speculators, in their 
greed to obtain sites for villa residences, have made serious in- 
roads on them, and ran the risk of killing the goose that laid the 
the golden egg, till the corporation took the matter up, and by 
timelv replanting, have mended matters considerably. 

Besides the health-giving fragrance the pine 'trees diffuse 
around, they answer another purpose of protecting the town from 
those cruel blasts of northeasterly winds that sweep across Eng- 
land in the winter, and mow down the sufferers from lung 
trouble by the myriad. In fact, Bournemouth is a famous asylum 
for consumptives, but it also is a winter resort for rich, fashion- 
able folk who wish to have a quiet, restful time, and the ele- 


A British Coney Island. 303 

gant villas of these people form one of the chiefest ornaments of 
the place. 

Bournemouth derives its name from its situation at the outlet 
of a tiny brook (which a child can safely ford) that runs down 
a narrow valley, or chasm (called here a chine), between two low, 
steep hills, on the sides and summits of which picturesquely stand 
the town and its delightful suburbs, the little valley or chine 
forming a charming public garden or park. The place faces due 
south. The eastern section is the more fashionable one, and here 
are found amid the pine trees the finest villas. A two-mile coast 
promenade along the east cliff leads to Boscombe, which is pos- 
sessed of a similar but more picturesque chine. Boscombe is 
Bournemouth’s serious rival, though it lacks the latter’s pine wood 
easterly shield. I gleaned all this information to-day by inquiry 
and observation. 

Our autos wended their way down the chine to the narrow sea 
front between the east and west cliffs, where is the entrance to 
the pier, and to the right of this entrance is a small but (I am 
told) excellent social club. The shore on each side of the pier 
was thronged with people and all kinds of side shows. Punch and 
Judy, phrenologists, camera obscuras, gipsy fortune-tellers, con- 
jurors, tumblers, photographers, nigger minstrels, and other such 
like folk, who earn their living during the summer months by 
the side of race tracks and at seaside resorts. I could see that 
Bournemouth, during the summer, was a species of respectable 
Coney Island. Every one seemed to be enjoying themselves, loll- 
ing on the shore, and basking in the sunshine, the children in- 
dustriously constructing castles and forts of sand, which the 
incoming tide would smooth away. 

The sea was sparkling in the sunshine, and a babel of talk 
mingled with peals of merry laughter rose from all sides. The 
pier was mostly crowded with decent holiday folks (what they 
call trippers here) of the lower middle-class with a sprinkling of 
second-rate dudes and dudesses, but there was a complete dearth 
of really fashionable folk, who do not affect Bournemouth in the 
summer, much as they may do so during the colder months of 
the dreary half-and-half English winter, which mostly consists 
of east winds, damp fogs and splashy rain, with short spells of 
feeble frost thrown in for the sake of appearance. 

As we were leaving our autos to go on the pier, crowds soon 
assembled to gaze on the unwonted spectacle. Reports of the 


304 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

advent of the now famous American millionaire to the New For- 
est had formed items of news in the local newspapers, and of 
course had found their way into the chief London organs of in- 
telligence. So our autos and the members of our party, especially 
Mr. Clark and the belle of the season, were objects of great 
curiosity. 

Our ladies were considerably disappointed at finding them- 
selves contrary to their expectations the only chic, smartly-dressed 
women in the place. But there was a certain satisfaction in being 
the cynosure of all eyes, even if those eyes belonged to the vulgar, 
unrefined portion of the community, and it was amusing to watch 
the wondering gaze of city clerks and their best girls, as they 
gazed in wonder and admiration at Dora’s exquisite beauty and 
delicious toilet. 

A really good band was discoursing sweet music on the end 
of the pier, so after parading a couple of times up and down, we 
subsided into seats in the vicinity of the instrumentalists and 
amused ourselves by criticising sotto-voce the members of the 
passing crowd, some of whom constituted in their costumes and 
gestures, cheap, common-place burlesques of fashion. Monkeys 
copy their masters and so do their cousins, human bipeds. 

“ What a striking difference there is,” said Dawlish, “ in the 
manner (leaving the society women of the two nations out of the 
question) in which American and English women attire them- 
selves. Of all civilized nations, the former display the best, as 
the latter the worst, taste in their choice of habiliments, in spite 
of the fact that English women have the enormous advantage over 
their transatlantic sisters in the superior cheapness of really 
good dress materials, and in their close proximity to France.” 

“ That is unquestionably the case,” said Bella. “ You have 
omitted another important natural advantage the English have, 
the superior roundness of their figures and their generally excel- 
lent complexions. That’s one of the reasons English actresses 
are so run after in the States.” 

“ I hope you were not one of the pursuers, Jim,” said Dora, 
but I am afraid you were, else you wouldn’t be such an excellent 
judge of feminine beauty and apparel.” 

This remark of Dora’s hit Jim pretty hard, I could see, and 
made him feel that he had jammed himself into a pretty tight 
place, but he most adroitly got out of it in a much more brilliant 
manner than I gave him credit of, by saying: 


A British Coney Island. 305 

“ At any rate, darling, I showed my good taste in selecting the 
loveliest woman in England for my wife.” 

Dora gave her spouse a fond look, and I could see gently 
squeezed his hand. The old man said : 

” Bravo, Jim, that’s the smartest remark I have ever heard 
you make ; you hit the ball for a home run my boy. I thought 
its curve had beat you altogether.” 

“ Your son, Mr. Clark,” said the Canon, is rapidly becoming 
a pupil of the late Lord Chesterfield.” 

At that moment the band struck up the Star-Spangled Banner, 
evidently intended as a compliment to us, as the conductor, after 
whispering to the leading musicians, made a graceful bow in our 
direction, and this was followed by Hail Columbia and Yankee 
Doodle, to the old man’s intense delight. This act of interna- 
tional courtesy resulted the next day in a munificent subscription 
being received by the director of the band, from the Emperor, 
who has a positive genius in dispensing timely checks. 

Of course, there was a personal motive in this, as a paragraph 
soon after found its way into the newspapers, extolling Mr. Clark 
for his munificence, but then is it possible to eliminate the factors 
of self and vanity altogether from the human equation? 

When the last bars of Yankee Doodle had died away, the old 
man went up to the conductor and shook his hand, and compli- 
mented him on the excellence of his band. Then turning to us 
he said : 

“ Now, I will ask the Canon and the Judge (if he is so minded) 
to come into the town and see if we can corral one of those 
famous Christchurch salmon, and we will leave the young 
people to enjoy the music. What’s the best hotel near the sea, 
Dawlish?” 

“ The Bath,” replied the Captain, “ just yonder on the slope 
of the east cliff. It has fine gardens abutting on the sea front.” 

“ That’s all right. We will meet you people there in about an 
hour’s time and have tea,” said the old man. 

I elected to accompany the Canon and the Emperor, and we 
made our way on foot into the part of the town on the east side, 
where is situated (so the Canon said) the principal fish store. 

When we arrived at our destination, the Emperor inquired of 
the shopman if he had a fresh caught Christchurch salmon for 
sale. 


20 


3o6 a 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

“ I am very sorry, sir,’^ replied the man, “ but we are clean 
sold out. Christchurch salmon are scarce and nearly all are sent 
to town, being snapped up at once by the big London dealers for 
the clubs. A gentleman came very early this morning and bought 
a grand fish fully thirty-five pounds in weight. It was really 
bespoke for a customer, but the gentleman said price was no 
object, and that he meant to have it, and offered me such a sum, 
that it fairly startled me and I was obliged to accept it. He took 
it away with him. He told me before leaving, that if I should 
serve him well in the future, that he would prove a good customer. 
There is a grand virtue in ready cash, sir, in my business, most 
of my customers require long credit, and some don’t pay at all.’^ 

“ Well, I guess I am sorry I can’t do business to-day,” said 
the old man. “ I believe, too, in ready money,” and he pulled 
a wad of Bank of England bills out of his inside coat pocket. 

This display of wealth evidently impressed the fishmonger, who 
said very obsequiously : 

“ I am truly sorry I can’t oblige you to-day, sir. I can see 
you are an American gentleman. Some of my best customers 
(visitors here) are from the other side, but I hope in the future 
that you will favor me with your custom, sir.” 

We left the shop and took a stroll in a cool little arcade, that 
reminded me on a small scale of the Burlington in town. 

‘‘ Ah,” said the old man, “ it’s the old tale of the early bird 
gathering the worms. My chefs are not as smart as they might 
be in finding out these snaps.” 

“ I wonder who this gentleman is who is so free with his 
cash,” said the Canon, who seemed rather mortified at the ill 
success that had attended our search. 

After spending some time in inspecting the shops, we made 
our way to the Bath Hotel, where we found the other division of 
our party, sitting in the shade in the delightful gardens Dawlish 
, had spoken of. I noticed quite a lot of semi-tropical plants that 
were thriving in the open air, speaking volumes for the mildness 
of the climate. After having partaken of tea and strawberries 
and cream, the manager showed us over the hotel, which is a very 
slick affair. In the halls and corridors is a really fine collection 
of pictures. We then mounted the coach, and our three autos 
proceeded along a shady road that leads to Boscombe. We 
passed through Christchurch where the Canon pointed out the 


307 


A British Coney Island. 

ruins of the once splendid monastery, and proceeded up the Lynd - 
hurst Road, and bearing to the left, arrived after a pleasant ride 
through the forest at our camp. 

At dinner, after the soup (an exquisite bisque d’ecrevisses) 
had been discussed, we were rather astonished to see a huge 
salmon brought in and placed before the Emperor, who, by the 
way, in camp on the rough, as he called it (though everything 
seemed to us mighty smooth), insisted on discarding the custom- 
ary Russian style of service, and having some of the pieces de 
resistance of the various courses placed on the table, as he was 
rather proud of his prowess as a carver. 

“ How in the name of all that’s curious,” ejaculated the Em- 
peror, “ did this fish get here ? — and what a beauty he is ! Do 
they shoot salmon in the forest hereabouts ? ” 

I saw an amused smile on the Captain’s face as he said : 

“ I thought you would like a Christchurch salmon, sir, so I 
went early with the wagon to Bournemouth and was lucky 
enough to secure this. It was caught this morning and had the 
sea lice on it, and is a cock fish in prime condition. I had some 
ado in getting the fishmonger to let me have it, as he said it was 
bespoke. But I got it. I trust, sir, you will accept it as a little 
present.” 

“ Dawlish, my boy,” said the old man, “ you are the right sort 
and no mistake. I shan’t forget this smart work of yours, I can 
tell you, and I am very greatly obliged to you for your thoughtful 
zeal.” 

“ So you were the gentleman. Captain, whom the fish merchant 
said had been to his store this morning. I felt awfully sold. Of 
course I did not guess it was you,” said the Canon. 

The salmon was most excellent, and we all did full justice to 
it and drank to the donor’s health in brimming bumpers of cham- 
pagne. 

After the honoring of the toast, I said : 

“ By the way. Captain, did you come across Jim this morning 
in the forest shooting blackbirds ? ” 

“ I was back from lournemouth at 6.30 a.m.,” replied Dawl- 
ish, “ but found the redoubtable Jim still sweetly sleeping.” 

“ And he routed me out of bed, as you saw this morning, at 
barely half-past seven and boasted that he had been two hours 


3o8 a 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

in the forest knocking over blackbirds with his six-shooter. Oh, 
Jim, you are a fraud ! 

“ But, Judge, replied our unabashed hero, '' if I didn’t hit the 
blackbirds, you will allow that that was a daisy shot of mine with 
the wet sponge.” 

I was obliged to admit that it was, amid general merriment. 


The Camp Completed. 


309 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE CAMP COMPLETED. 

June 30, Thursday. 

During breakfast this morning the ladies unanimously decided 
to cycle to Bournemouth, or at any rate part of the way, and 
have a bathe and a walk about the town afterwards. Of course 
their wishes were law to us men, and we prepared to escort 
them. Personally, this suited me very well, as I had to make 
considerable communications with the London office through the 
’phone, so that I could combine business with pleasure. 

As we were mounting our bikes I could not help noticing the 
neat and workmanlike costumes of the three ladies. The two 
Englishwomen had selected for theirs a strong, light Welsh flan- 
nel of a pretty French gray shade, piped with dark blue silk. My 
wife affected drab-colored alpaca. The skirts of all three cos- 
tumes were moderately (not too) short, sufficiently so as to ob- 
viate any chance of the skirts coming into contact with the cranks 
of the wheels (a danger in connection with long skirts which has 
been the cause of many quite serious, if not fatal, accidents). 

Prettily made cotton blouses, with long China silk neckties in 
sailor knots, plain white sailor hats, low Oxford tan shoes of 
a serviceable nature, with grooves cut in the soles to catch the 
rat trap pedals, and thin woollen stockings (best for cycling and 
pedestrianism). Each lady had a sort of loose covert coat of same 
material as the skirt, which coat she discarded when riding, and 
she also wore knickerbockers en suite with her costume, which 
latter piece of information I acquired from my wife. I could see 
that our fair dames were not going to waste any more of their 
frills on the vulgar. They, of course, had smarter cycling cos- 
tumes for show purposes, but the above were their ordinary road 
turnouts. The only pieces of ornamentation they allowed them- 
selves were pretty gold breastpins in their neckties with the 


3 10 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

initials S. D. A. (Sensible Dress Association) in a monogram set 
in sapphires and diamonds, and small brooches to match fixed in 
the ribbons of their straw hats. 

We men were all dressed alike, namely, in coat and breeches 
of army karkee, which, though not pretty, is the best material for 
road wear, being light, strong, cool ; gray flannel shirts, white 
pith helmets, low Oxford shoes and gray woollen stockings, 
which, contrary to expectation, I did not find to prove warm. 
The loose texture of woollen garments accounts for this. A 
thick sweater is by no means so oppressive as it looks, even in the 
hottest weather. The perfect garment, from a sanitary point, is 
one that is loose and porous, freely admitting the air on to the 
surface of the body. 

I was glad to see my wife is fast catching on to the English 
method of riding, which is the correct, healthy and certainly the 
most elegant one. It consists in sitting straight up and using 
the ankle as much as possible in turning the cranks. Nothing is 
worse or more clumsy-looking than riding flat-footed, doing all 
the work from the knees. It has the effect of unduly raising those 
joints like pistons in a steam engine. If the ankle is made proper 
use of it is only necessary to raise the knee quite slightly. Very 
few, comparatively speaking, of Americans (barring, of course, 
professional and amateur crack riders) ride in the proper fashion. 
This to a considerable extent is owing to the bad practice of wear- 
ing high shoes when wheeling, thus preventing the ankles having 
free play. 

I may note here that for many years we have abandoned the 
chainless form of bicycle, it proving a fallacy. Our chains are 
made on a new principle, absolutely unslippable and non-stretch- 
ing, of hardened aluminum enclosed in casings of the same ma- 
terial, which has taken the place of steel entirely in the manufac- 
ture of wheels. 

On this occasion we were accompanied only by the Smoker 
and the Buggy, the former as a harbor of refuge in case of rain 
or fatigue, and the latter as a means of pleasant locomotion for 
our two seniors (I won’t allow that I am one), the Canon and the 
Emperor. 

We found the roads were pretty loose, owing to the warmth of 
the weather, and we were not sorry when we arrived at Christ- 
church, where we halted to inspect the Abbey church and the 


The Camp Completed. 31 1 

ruins of the old monastery, and of course had to submit to an in- 
evitable historical lecture from our learned Canon. 

We then resumed our journey and covered the remaining four 
miles via Boscombe to Bournemouth at a merry pace. We made 
at once for the shore, and were soon besporting ourselves in the 
sea, which was deliciously refreshing after our dusty ride. We 
had taken care to bring our bathing dresses with us in the Smoker. 
I noticed that some of the women we saw still disfigured them- 
selves in hideous bathing gowns. How conservative and taste- 
less are Britishers of the middle class. 

Our ladies naturally created quite a sensation among the male 
loungers on the shore and pier by the ultra chicness (to half coin 
a word) of their water dresses, and I could see a good many field 
and opera glasses leveled at our little crowd. While we were 
reveling in the cool domain of Father Neptune, the old man and 
the Canon stood on the shore watching our gambols, and when 
we had once more resumed our cycling attire, I left the party to 
while away an hour on the pier while I repaired to a telephone 
station, and was soon in communication with my subordinates 
in Pall Mall, discussing business details. When I was through I 
rejoined the party on the pier, and found them watching the dis- 
embarkation of a crowd of trippers from an excursion steamer 
that had just arrived from Southampton. 

A happy, careless, devil-me-care throng it was, the men 
mostly smoking pipes and cheap cigars and their best girls and 
wives sucking oranges, eating cakes and drinking ginger beer 
out of stone bottles. I must give the British lower class one 
especial word of praise, the men do not (barring sailors, of 
course) chew tobacco and the women refrain from distorting their 
faces by munching gum. It is a painful and disgusting sight to 
sit in a road car in any American city and to note the women 
moving their jaws like so many two-legged cows chewing the 
cud. 

When we had sufficiently studied the idiosyncrasies of our 
humble English cousins, we repaired to the Bath Hotel and en- 
joyed an excellent lunch. The manager himself looked after our 
wants and spoke to the old man as obsequiously and deferentially 
as if he were a real Emperor, such is the power of great wealth 
everywhere. The old man was so pleased with the hotel and its 
surroundings that he promised to patronize it the next time he 


312 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

came to Bournemouth, and at the especial request of the manager 
inscribed the names of himself and party in the hotel register. 
We had our coffee in the garden, and afterwards strolled about 
the town and visited the summer and winter gardens and list- 
ened to the strains of the excellent band. 

We walked along the west cliff, which is exceedingly pictur- 
esque, and then returning to the Bath Hotel, mounted our ma- 
chines, and accompanied by the autos, rode along the east cliff 
to Boscombe. From this coign of vantage we could see the Isle 
of Wight, with the famous Needle Rocks glancing white and dis- 
tinct in the distance. 

As the ladies were a bit tired with their exertions, all we 
cyclists climbed on to the roof of the Smoker and returned to 
the camp, having one and all thoroughly enjoyed our day’s 
outing. 

On entering the camp we found in our absence that a great 
alteration had taken place. Mr. Clark had told us that the 
previous arrangement had been temporary, owing to the fact that 
only part of the outfit had been completed in time for our de- 
parture from town, and that the rest would follow as soon as 
it was ready. This further addition had now arrived on a sup- 
plementary camp auto, and the result was certainly highly im- 
pressive. Our first camp had consisted of eight tents. Now the 
whole number of tents had been, as if by magic, increased to four- 
teen. 

To Dora and Jim was assigned an exquisite sleeping pavilion 
containing bed, dressing and bath rooms. My wife and I were 
similarly accommodated. A third, commodious tent was reserved 
for the old man, the Canon and Dawlish. The Emperor thought 
it more entertaining to share a sleeping apartment with his two 
friends. If the truth be known, he didn’t like to be alone, as he 
was haunted with the idea that he might be held up by robbers. 
He forgot that he was now in law-abiding old England, and not 
in the lawless woolly West. There was also a small sleeper for 
the two maids. In addition to the dining marquee, there was a 
most charming drawing-room tent for the ladies and a most 
comfortable smoker for us men. There was besides a tent where 
we could actually get a Russian steam bath. This was so great 
a novelty that the very idea filled me with amazement. The 
division of the camp allotted to the servants had also been slightly 


The Camp Completed. 313 

enlarged by a private sitting-room tent for the butler and for the 
upper servants, which could also be used as a pantry. 

These above enumerated, including the servants’ marquee, 
completed the outfit. The autos were arranged in a line so as 
to form a separation between the two sections. In the servants’ 
camp was a complete open air kitchen, where their meals were 
prepared, though our food was mostly cooked in the kitchen 
auto. There were two small collapsible aluminum hand car- 
riages, one of them being provided with hot water compartments 
for conveying cooked food to our marquee and the other for 
bringing and taking away plates and dishes. Each of these camp 
autos had space enough to carry the whole camp outfit, but the 
Emperor, with his prodigious foresight and precaution, wished to 
provide against the inconvenience that would be caused by a 
temporary breakdown. So, in case such a contretemps occurred, 
it would be easy to transfer the contents of the disabled auto to 
the going concern, which would proceed to its destination, leav- 
ing the injured vehicle in charge of two men until the utility car 
could be despatched to its assistance. I could not help noting at 
length all these details, as it appears to me that this camp equi- 
page is certainly as complete and wonderful in its way as the 
private train, and it sends my respect for the Napoleonic ability 
of the Emperor away up to the highest G. 

I may add that all the tents were made of water-proofed silk, 
a material which, though very expensive, is also much lighter 
than canvas and takes up far less room on the cars when the 
tents are struck and packed. 

It evidently gave the old man intense satisfaction in showing 
us around the enlarged and beautiful camp. Among other things, 
I could not fail in being struck by the loving care which had 
been displayed in the floral decorations. Jim and Dora’s tent 
was especially favored; at its entrance were pots of hothouse 
flowers, and whole baskets of roses were suspended from the 
roof. Nor were Bella and I forgotten, and the drawing-room was 
redolent with nature’s choicest blooms. When we had completed 
our survey, the Emperor exclaimed : 

“ Now, you fellows, I dare say the ladies will be glad to get 
quit of us for a while. Come with me and we will have wliat I 
consider the greatest of all luxuries, and the most healthful, too, 
namely, a Russian bath,’ 


314 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

We were nothing loath, and followed the old man, curious to see 
how he had contrived such a surprise out here in the woods. 
The tent to which we directed our steps was the nearest one to 
the servants’ quarters, and I could see a length of hose lying on 
the ground connecting with the utility car, wherein was a small 
strong steam boiler heated by electricity. We entered the tent 
and found that it was divided into two distinct sections. The 
larger one contained three divisions; one a dressing-room, the 
two others were for shampooing and cooling purposes. The 
smaller section of the tent was a steam or vapor room, and this 
section was entirely cut off from the first, there being a narrow 
space open to the air, with the sides covered in between them, so 
that any one could pass from one section to the other without 
being observed from the outside. The idea of having the tent 
constructed in two separate sections was to prevent the steam 
escaping into the first. The shampooing room was supplied with 
hot and cold water, the former from the utility car, the latter 
from the brook ; both forced through hoses by means of an elec- 
tric pump on the utility car, which was stationed close to the 
bath tent. The footmen and grooms were all trained shampooers 
and knew their business thoroughly. After having enjoyed a 
most excellent bath, we soon found ourselves ensconced in lounge 
chairs, enveloped in bath robes in the cooling room. At the 
Emperor’s suggestion, the side of the tent was opened, giving us 
a view into the forest on the quarter away from the camp. Cof- 
fee and cigars were brought, and we proceeded to make ourselves 
completely comfortable. 

“ You remind me, sir, of what I have read of the Khalifs of 
Bagdad and Cordova,” said I. “ But I doubt if your ideas of 
comfort and luxury are not away ahead of them. Who but your- 
self could have ever conceived such an idea as this? Why, you 
beat the good genii in the Arabian Nights, and even the Emperor 
Saladin in Sir Waiter Scott’s novel, ‘ The Talisman.’ ” 

I never heard of the gentlemen you are talking about. Judge,” 
said the old man. “ But after all this is a very simple common- 
sense arrangement. I am a firm believer in steam or Russian 
baths. I owe a great deal of my health to them, and I like getting 
others to share in the benefit. By gosh. Judge, look at the number 
of rich men who live high and don’t take any exercise to speak 
of, who die of apoplexy and kidney troubles because they won’t 


The Camp Completed. 315 

relieve their systems by nature’s great specific, which is sweating. 
I learnt this from my poor friend and late partner, and I have 
never ceased to bless his memory ever since for the tip.” 

“ Daddy knows a thing or two, Judge, doesn’t he? ” said Jim. 

“ Your father, Jim, is an up-to-date Solomon ; in fact, he is a 
deal wiser than that overrated sage, who, in spite of his proverbs 
and his platitudes, made a sad mess of his life,” I replied. 

“ He was the boss that had a thousand wives, wasn’t he. Canon ? 
I guess he made rather a break there. One is enough for most 
men and too much for some,” said the old man knowingly. 

I used to think the same as you, Daddy,” said Jim, “ but since 
I have been spliced I have come to believe in the institution of 
marriage.” 

“ So you ought, my boy,” said the old man, “ with such a wife 
as you have got. Are you aware, sir, that I consider you the 
most fortunate man in the world ? ” 

“ I guess you are about right,” replied Jim, rather solemnly. 
“We must get our friend, the Captain, to follow my example. 
We will have a fine splurge. Cap, when the happy event comes 
off.” 

I could see the blush crimson on the gallant gentleman’s brow, 
in spite of the sun tan. 

The Canon relieved the embarrassing silence that followed 
Jim’s home thrust by observing : 

“What is the program to-morrow, Mr. Clark?” 

“ We are going to inspect that curious old collection of rocks 
\ou call Stonehenge, Canon, and take a squint at Salisbury Ca- 
thedral. These old relics have a kind of fascination for me, 
as they are rather scarce in my country. By the way, what was 
the name. Canon, of that old cuss who built Winchester School ? 
You mentioned his name, but it has slipped my memory.” 

“ William de Wykeham,” replied the churchman. “ He has 
immortalized himself by founding the leading public school in 
England. Even Etonians will not deny the pride of place to 
Winchester.” 

“ I think I will found a big school, too,” said the old man 
musingly. 

“ I can point out a better and easier way than that,” replied 
the Canon, “ of achieving a place among the Immortals. A 
new public school might prove a failure. Our two great uni- 


3i6 a 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

versities of Oxford and Cambridge are the two most important 
institutions of the country. They have been the models from 
which your American varsities have been shaped, and have also 
been the depositories of light and knowledge, the training grounds 
of our greatest lawyers, divines and statesmen for hundreds of 
years ; they have each done a grand and noble work, and will do 
more in the future, but they are both languishing for lack of 
funds, since their endowments were made when land was held 
to be the only safe investment and source of wealth, but in these 
latter times, chiefly owing to the agricultural development of 
your great Western States, their revenues have been sadly di- 
minished (especially those of Cambridge), and consequently their 
usefulness has been much impaired. It would take five million 
pounds to thoroughly rehabilitate the resources of the two uni- 
versities, and half that sum those of one of them. The modern 
Croesus who would take in hand and accomplish such a task 
would earn the thanks and admiration not only of his contempo- 
raries, but those of unborn generations, and his name would stand 
very, very high in the list of the great benefactors of the English- 
speaking race. A like sum would suffice to place the finances of 
all the great London hospitals on a secure and permanent basis.” 

While the Canon was speaking, I watched the face of the old 
man. He had knitted his brows and was, I knew, pondering 
deeply. I could divine the tenor of his thoughts. Less than two 
years’ income of his prodigious wealth would suffice to accomplish 
both these magnificent results and blazon with lasting radiance his 
name and fame. 

‘‘ Canon,” said he at length, “ I am obliged to you for your 
wrinkle. I will bear what you have said in mind. Fifty mil- 
lions, fifty millions. I don’t know what Jim would say if I 
spent such a pile ; he would think I was going to fire him and his 
sweet wife into the poorhouse, but I could do the needful, say, 
for Cambridge, to begin with. She appears to want it most. But 
talking of Dora, let us get on our things and join the ladies, or 
they will think we are lost. It is about time, too, to dress for 
dinner, and I think the bath we have just enjoyed will have 
put a darned fine edge on our appetites, at least it has on mine,” 
and the old man turned out to be a good prophet. 


The Bandit Plugger Shoots The Crow. 317 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE BANDIT PLUGGER SHOOTS THE CROW. 

July i, Friday. 

We were on the road by nine o’clock this morning. It prom- 
ised to be a very warm day, but there was a lot of buoyancy in 
the air. Any one like me, who has lived unscathed through many 
a hot spell in New York City and has been able to do a decent 
amount of work in spite of that awful damp heat, can stand any- 
thing in the shape of high temperature. I was riding with Jim, 
who had braved all kinds of temperatures from no degrees in the 
shade above zero to 45 degrees below, and was consequently as 
blithe as a bee. 

Dawlish and Annie were fifty yards ahead ; behind us came the 
Buggy, this time carrying four persons, as neither Dora nor my 
wife felt equal to cycling with the temperature 85 degrees in the 
shade. In the rear of the procession came the Boudoir and the 
Smoker. 

Jim and I, from feelings of delicacy and from fear of spoiling 
sport, kept well behind Annie and her companion, who were 
making the running at a smart pace. 

“ What a pair of salamanders those two are,” said I, raising 
my white pith helmet in order to wipe the sweat from my manly 
brow. 

“ Well, you see,” replied my companion, “ they are scorching 
ahead in order to get by themselves.” 

“ They will get themselves into good condition, that’s one 
thing,” replied I. 

They are in training for a race,” said Jim laconically. 

“ What race? ” replied I, without thinking. 

Why, the Matrimonial Stakes, of course. Had you there. 
Judge,” said Jim, laughing. 

“ I guess you are about right there, Jim,” I replied. ‘‘ It’s a 
sure thing, and no mistake. Dawlish told me in ’Frisco that he 


3i8 a 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

would only marry a countrywoman of his own, if he married at 
all.” 

“ I guess he is right,” replied Jim, “ though you certainly drew 
a prize in Yankeeland.” 

“ I say, Jim, I have a bone to pick with you,” said L ''You 
will pardon me, but you are too fond of running down your own 
country.” 

" I wasn’t running it down, Judge,” replied the ex-cowboy. 
" The country is all right. I was merely slating its women 
folk. They are a cold-hearted, dollar-loving lot.” 

" But if they are, we should not acknowledge it,” said I. 

"What, not between ourselves. Judge? Let’s be honest with 
one another, at any rate,” replied our hero. 

" But the women are just as fond of money on this side,” 
said I. 

" But they are fond of other things besides dollars.” 

" Oh, you are wrong there, our women like golf and lots of 
things,” said I, driven into a corner. 

" You haven’t mentioned dress, deceit, divorce and doing 
Europe,” replied Jim, laughing. 

" You will, at any rate, admit, Jim, that American ladies are 
the most chic, charming and versatile women on the face of the 
earth.” 

" I am with you,” replied Jim, " but the worst of it is that is 
all there is to them. There’s no solid foundation of sterling 
qualities behind. It’s all outward show; no depth of character. 
As long as you have the dollars to make a splurge with, you 
are all right; if you haven’t got them, and perhaps you can’t 
have if she has blowed ’em, you are all wrong and she’s ready to 
get a divorce.” 

" I’ll go with you to a certain extent,” said I, " that it is quite 
true what the great philosopher wrote, ' Most women have no 
character at all,’ but I will not allow that this is more true of 
American than of any other species of she-male ; but the fact is, 
Jim, you used not to be like this. I have known the time when 
you were always singing the praises of American girls.” 

" Of a certain class,” replied Jim, significantly, " but since my 
marriage I am sailing on another tack and have learned to ap- 
preciate the worth of true womanhood.” 

" Look out, Jim,” said I, " come now, confess it, you are rap- 
idly becoming Anglicized.” 


The Bandit Plugger Shoots The Crow. 319 

And so would you be if you had such an English wife as 
I have. By God, Judge, you will never know what Dora is doing 
for me. I am a changed man. I am no longer a mere animal, as 
I was. Now don’t deny it. You know the kind of life I used to 
lead. Dora has proved my salvation, and oughtn’t I to be grate- 
^ fill to her, and therefore to her English training and her English 
sisters? Tell me now, honest Injun, do you think I could have 
found among the 100,000,000 people on the other side a wife in 
every way equal to Dora? And you know, Judge, I could have 
had my pick of them.” 

“ No, I don’t think you could, Jim,” replied I, briefly. I was 
surprised at his earnestness of manner and even his unv/onted 
eloquence. What a wonderful revolution had been wrought in 
a few months ! Here was a young fellow who had been a friend 
in the literal sense of publicans and sinners, of actresses and 
ladies of the demi-monde, making a confession which would cause 
the very angels to rejoice. 

I remained silent for a bit, for what could I say? I wouldn’t 
confess to him that I was wrong and that he was utterly right, 
that I had been pleading a lost cause. No, I wouldn’t throw 
up my brief, as I had done when arguing on the same question 
with Dawlish. 

This was quite another affair. My only recourse was to change 
the conversation, so I observed : 

“ By the way, Jim, these pith helmets are sure things. I am 
glad I took Dawlish’s advice and got one.” 

“ So am I,” replied Jim, “ you bet. The fact is, English army 
officers are pretty slick. They are sent to live in all kinds of 
climates, and learn the art 'of making themselves comfortable to 
perfection. By the way. I’m as thirsty as a camel, what do you 
, say to a tankard of cold Bass, Judge? ” 

“ I am with you,” replied 1 . 

Jim raised a Buffalo Bill wild Indian warwhoop and shouted: 

“ Hie, Cap, wouldn’t you like a drink, old man ? ” 

The word “ drink ” seemed to act on Dawlish like a full stop 
to a sentence. It arrested him immediately. 

'' You bet I would,” replied he, cheerily. 

Jim held up his hand, which signal brought the procession be- 
hind to a standstill, and, followed by the leading pair, we were 
50on alongside the Buggy. 


320 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

“Aren’t you nearly frizzled, darling?” said Jim to Dora, who 
was sitting next to our millionaire motorman. 

“ You bet I am,” replied the fair lady. “ I was just going 
to suggest to Daddy that we should transfer our little selves to 
the inside of the Smoker, and I am sure that your wife would 
not have proposed an amendment.” 

“ I think ladies should have a due regard to their complexions,” 
said I. 

“ When they have natural ones,” said Dora, laughing. “ Didn’t 
it make us smile, Bella dear, to notice the care the old Countess 
of Filey took of her built-up complexion at Ascot on the cup 
day?” 

“ Well, streaks of melted rouge and enamel running down 
one’s cheeks are certainly not becoming,” said Annie. 

“ The sun is painting your face, my dear Annie,” said the 
Emperor. 

“ A healthy tan doesn’t matter a row of pins ; nothing could 
hurt your complexion. Miss Leighton,” said the gallant officer. 

“ I say. Captain,” said the Canon, “ that’s rather a doubtful 
compliment you have just paid my daughter. It smacks of an 
utterance of the Delphic Oracle, since it is capable of two inter- 
pretations. It might be inferred from what you have just said 
that my daughter had no complexion to injure.” 

“ Look out. Canon, you and I will quarrel directly if you 
make such unfair insinuations,” said the Captain, laughing. 

“ I forgive the ambiguity. Captain,” said Annie, looking up 
with a shy, pleading look into the face of the handsome giant by 
her side, who returned the glance in such a way as convinced me 
that there was already established a subtle bond of union between 
this couple of English humans. 

It was soon decided that we should all seek refuge in the 
Smoker. It was jollier and more companionable to be all bunched 
together. The fair Annie pretended to be sorry at having to 
quit her wheel, and I dare say perhaps it was not an absolute Muff 
on her part, as she evidently was prepared to go through fire and 
water (especially the former) in order that she might enjoy the 
exclusive society of the Captain. But she acquiesced in the ar- 
rangement with good grace, perhaps, after all, from the secret 
consciousness that a pretty woman looks to greater advantage 
reclining at ease in a rocker, comparatively cool and easy, than 
toiling, red in the face and perspiring, along a hot, dusty road. 


The Bandit Plugger Shoots The Crow. 321 

When we were seated, the attentive butler supplied us with 
cold drinks suited to our individual tastes. As I was setting 
down, my tankard of draught Bass half emptied, with a sigh of 
relief, I heard a mighty “ Ha ! ” as Jim emptied his quart of 
Trent brewed ale. 

“ My darling,’" said the anxious Dora to her loved spouse, 
“ you shouldn’t gulp down such a quantity at a time, you will 
hurt yourself.” And she leaned over and kissed his forehead, 
and the unabashed Jim responded by seizing his adored wife 
round the waist and giving her half a dozen rapid-fire kisses 
which caused the old man to burst into a loud guffaw, as he 
said : 

“ That pair. Judge, keep going a perpetual honeymoon. I 
never saw such a spoony couple.” 

I don’t wonder at it,” replied I, emphatically. 

“ Here we are at Blandford,” said the Canon. “ We are on 
Salisbury Plain now.” 

The car was delightfully cool, both ends were open, and be- 
sides several small electric punkahs helped matters considerably. 

The scenery was rather monotonous here; flat, rough, coarse 
grass land, interspersed with irregular patches of cultivation, but 
the road and the company were first-class. 

It did not take us long at the pace we were traveling to ar- 
rive at the quaint little city of Salisbury, a name that has made 
its mark in English history in the persons of several national 
leaders, noblemen of courage and capacity. We lost no time in 
hurrying to the Cathedral. There was no occasion to ask the 
way to the splendid fane, for it is not only the center but the 
very soul of the place. Salisbury without its Cathedral would 
be like the cities of Oxford and Cambridge deprived of their 
respective Universities, or a stupid, brainless woman who has 
lost the physical beauty that constituted her sole attraction. 

The Cathedral forms a landmark visible for many miles around. 
Indeed soon after leaving the forest we had seen its exquisitely 
proportioned spire in the far distance pointing heavenwards. 

On our entrance into the great church, we were taken in hand 
by an ancient man in a species of black cassock, who might have 
stood as a model for King Lear, Moses, or one of the Sages of 
Greece, and whose onerous duties consisted in showing visitors 
round the building, explaining the various objects of interest, 
looking pious and receiving tips. This worthy, whose rubicund 
21 


322 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

nose told its own tale, began in a drowsy voice, parrot-like, to 
repeat his lesson that he had learned by heart through constant 
repetition, but the poor man was so constantly pulled up and 
corrected by the Canon, that at length he subsided into a sulky 
silence and allowed our churchman to do the talking, and ex- 
cellently well he did it, too. and gave us a lot of interesting in- 
formation connected with the Cathedral, its tombs, spire, stone 
carving, painted windows and architecture, that surprised and 
overwhelmed our guide, who didn’t know a quarter of what the 
Canon did. 

I dislike being shown round picture galleries, churches and 
museums by uneducated persons, who are inexpressibly tedious 
and are at sea at once if you get them out of the narrow groove 
of dry-as-dust information they daily follow. But when the 
guide is a refined, intellectual gentleman, who tackles his subject 
in a scientific, interesting manner, that is entirely another ques- 
tion. Our guide was inclined to be rather crusty at having the 
wind taken out of his sails, until he learned from one of the 
party the Canon’s name, and then his demeanor changed immedi- 
ately, and he forthwith treated the churchman with the greatest 
possible deference. The fact is, as we discovered afterwards, 
that the Canon is one of the greatest authorities on the subject 
of ecclesiastical architecture and antiquities in the Kingdom, and 
has written a book on English Cathedrals, and is intimately ac- 
quainted with all of them. 

If the verger had been surprised at meeting the Canon, he was 
quite dumfounded at the munificence of the dole he received 
from the Emperor, which gratuity acted as a magic salve to his 
wounded pride. 

When we were through, we once more entered the Smoker, 
and wended our way across the plain to Stonehenge, which is, as 
every one knows, a collection of huge stones like enormous, com- 
paratively shallow packing cases placed on end, several pair be- 
ing overlaid by a third, hence called Triliths. They had been 
placed there evidently with some design, as they enclose irregu- 
larly shaped spaces. Several of the stones are no longer in an 
upright position, but are lying prone on the ground. One of them 
is said to owe its fall to the antiquarian zeal of King Charles II , 
who resided in the neighborhood some time after the battle of 
Worcester. 

While we were eagerly examining this most ancient memorial 


I The Bandit Plugger Shoots The Crow. 323 

of the past, the servants were busy arranging lunch in the shadow 
(a precious short one at this time of day, 2 p. m.) of one of the 
biggest of the rocks. We had left the Smoker and the Boudoir 
by the roadside and taken the Wagon on to the grass with us. 

The July sun was streaming down on this treeless plain, and 
I had not thought it possible that it could be so warm in England. 

“ How do you feel, Canon, is this hot enough for you?’’ said 
Jim, taking the arm of the ecclesiastic, who was walking on the 
left side of the Emperor while I was strolling along on his right. 

“ By Jupiter 1 ” replied the ecclesiastic, “ it’s hot enough to suit 
a salamander.” 

“ It used to be pretty grilling on my ranch in summer, eh, 
Jim? ” said the old man. 

“I guess it was 110° in the shade quite often. But what’s 
the matter with having a drink, and lunch is ready I see. Hie, 
Henry, give us a pull of the claret cup,” said the thirsty ex- 
cowboy. 

Jim took the great two-handed silver flagon, holding nearly a 
gallon I should judge, from the hands of the attentive servant, 
filled with seductive looking fluid, on the surface of which floated 
a few strawberries and a sprig or two of fragrant Borage, while 
like an iceberg in a purple sea, with four-fifths of its bulk sub- 
merged, appeared a satisfactory large lump of transparent ice. 
A truly luscious sight it was, and a cheerful sound, too, the 
same lump of ice made as it banged against the side of the cup, 
as the latter was passed from hand to hand. Jim wouldn’t 
wet his lips till all of us had liberally quenched our respective 
droughts. 

“ Ye Gods, I don’t think I ever enjoyed a drink like this one, 
and such liquor, too ! ” said the Canon emphatically. “If the 
Olympian Deities had had booze like this, they would have rele- 
gated their nectar to the servants’ hall down-stairs. I think per- 
haps the most truly satisfactory sensation that can be experienced 
by us poor mortals is the slaking of a gradually excited, carefully 
cultivated thirst.” 

It was good to see Jim bury his head in the vessel, and to hear 
the pleasant gurgling sound as a quart or more of the icy tor- 
rent flowed down his parched throat. 

“ Hold hard. Jim,” cried Dawlish, deserting the fair Annie’s 
side, and rushing up to where we were standing in the narrow 
zone of shade cast by the giant stone that happened to have been 


324 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

fixed in such a manner that the sun would set immediately behind 
it, and consequently, that we should be screened from his rays, 
and enjoy the coolness of the ever-increasing shadow, by choos- 
ing an easterly position on the grassy sward for our lunch. 

The butler had reserved a special brew of the punch (as we 
Americans call cup) for the ladies, contained in a smaller goblet 
better adapted to their more modest wants. 

We were all glad to take our places on the turf and satisfy the 
cravings of hunger, now that those of thirst had been allayed. 

We had been surprised that the Canon, usually so eager to seize 
on occasions of airing his eloquence, had hitherto refrained from 
saying much on the subject of Stonehenge, but, after all, you can’t 
blame a man for talking as little as possible with the temperature 
at 90° in the shade, and it is not dignified anyhow for a rather 
portly ecclesiastic to be marching around, mopping his face, and 
larding the lean earth, while holding forth on the educational 
advantages possibly enjoyed by post-tertiary men. Besides, no 
average audience can be expected to assimilate knowledge, when 
hungry, thirsty, warm and uncomfortable. 

I think also that our spiritual adviser had had a pointer given 
him by his daughter, and so he was now discreetly careful, lest 
he should bore certain members of the party, by a too profuse 
verbosity. But whatever was the cause for his reticence, it is 
a fact that all the time before or during lunch, the churchman 
talked too little, rather than too much, and when the time had 
come to woo the graces of the good Goddess Nicotina, the Canon, 
who was unclerically attired in a Scotch tweed costume, consisting 
of Norfolk jacket and baggy knickerbockers, brown Oxford 
shoes, heather colored stockings and white pith helmet, leaned up 
against the great stone in whose shadow we were grouped, and 
with half-closed eyes was allowing the blue smoke from one of 
the Emperor’s finest Cabanas to issue in tiny rings from his 
mouth. 

Indeed, as it was siesta time, we were afraid that the church- 
man was really going to doze off. The temporary silencing of 
the guns of our leading conversation maker proved to us how 
much we are indebted to him for exciting in us an intelligent 
interest in our transitory environments. After all, the good 
talker (not a mere stringer together of empty sentences) must be 
an all-round well-read man. It was the Canon’s weakness that 
he could not always adapt himself to his audience. 


The Bandit Plugger Shoots The Crow. 325 

His (laughter thought it necessary to rouse him up to a sense 
of his social duties by observing : 

“ Your sermons, papa, sometimes make us go to sleep, but we 
want awakening now, so though it is very warm, you must not 
have your nap. We are dying to hear all about the stones. How 
old are they, were they put here by the Saxons ? 

Annie knew that this awful break-on-purpose of hers would 
rouse her sire, as surely as the notes of a bagpipe would a High- 
land Scotchman, and she was right. 

“ My dear Annie,” replied her father, reprovingly, in an in- 
jured tone, “ you ought to go to school again, you surely know 
better than that. I am inclined to think these stones were stand- 
ing here some time anterior to the building of the great Pyramid 
of Cheops. As for my sermons being soporific, others have a 
different opinion to what you appear to entertain. Three years 
ago I preached before the members of the British Association 
on the Holy Sepulchre, introducing a few points concerning the 
various methods employed by the ancients in disposing of their 
dead, and I was invited by the Association to publish the sermon, 
which 1 did at my own expense.” 

“ But we are not all of us archaeologists, papa,” said Annie, 
laughing. 

“ How long did you say these rocks have been here, my dear 
Canon ? ” exclaimed the old man, making a timely diversion. 
“ Don’t mind what Annie says, the only things in the way of 
stones that are interesting to ladies are diamonds, rubies and such 
like truck.” 

“ I believe it is at least 5,000 to 6,000 years since these great 
monoliths and triliths have been erected here,” replied the Canon, 
“ and it has been a question among scientists, whether they 
formed part of a temple for the worship of the sun, or mark 
the last resting place of prehistoric chieftains. I am inclined to 
think that they had something to do with Devil or Dragon wor- 
ship. Similar remains on a smaller scale can be seen in Brittany. 
I do not think that Stonehenge was connected with the celebra- 
tion of Druidical rites, as the Druids always performed their 
occult mysteries in forests of oaks, and it is difficult to suppose 
that this part of the country was ever covered by forests; the 
soil of Salisbury plain is not favorable to the growth of trees. 
Dragon worship seems among the Keltic races to have at a very 
early period superseded sun worship. We trace the former in 


326 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

the word Pendragon or chief of chiefs. This leader was elected 
in times of great emergency. Tradition points to King Arthur 
as being a Pendragon ; Caractacus, who was carried a prisoner to 
Rome, was certainly one of them ; but however this may be, the 
consensus of authorities now decidedly favor the theory of Stone- 
henge being formerly a great sun temple. By the way, the Scotch 
(the Gaelic-Scotch were a branch of the great Keltic tribe) still 
preserve in their Festival of Halloween, a survival of the cult 
of their sun-worshiping ancestors.” 

“ It seems, Canon,” said I, “ almost impossible to understand 
how primitive people could have had mechanical appliances pow- 
erful enough to shift such huge masses.” 

But they must have had them nevertheless,” replied the 
Canon, “ and not only this, but they must have hewn them in 
quarries at considerable distances from this spot, say at Port- 
land in Dorsetshire or Falmouth in Cornwall. The stones cer- 
tainly did not grow here. The order is too symmetrical to be 
accidental, and the absence of similar blocks in the neighborhood 
does away with the notion that they were transported here by 
glacial agency. But some of the stones composing the outer cas- 
ing of the great Pyramid, before they were stripped off by the 
Saracens, were nearly, and those composing the ruins of the 
temple of Karnac are fully, as big and heavy as the one against 
which I am leaning, though I admit that there is no evidence to 
show that the original inhabitants of this country arrived at any 
period at a state of equal civilization with the ancient Egyptians ; 
still it is wonderful what can be done by patience, and the com- 
bined efforts of great bodies of men, aided by such simple appli- 
ances as rollers, pulleys and inclined planes.” 

“ I love to hear you talk. Canon,” said the Emperor, “ you 
interest and instruct me all the time, and save me the trouble of 
reading books and carrying them about with me. There’s Jim 
gone to sleep with his head in Dora’s lap. That’s a bad compli- 
ment to you. Canon.” 

“ The poor boy is tired, let him rest a bit,” said Dora, stroking 
the forehead of her beloved. 

“ I guess he has had too much of that claret punch,” said the 
old man. You will spoil him, Dora, if you pet him so.” 

“ Oh, Jim can stand a whole lot of spoiling,” said Dora. 

Just then a bug alighted on Jim’s nose and the hero awoke 
kWith a start, and having stretched himself and yawned, said: 


The Bandit Plugger Shoots The Crow. 327 

** I must apologize, Canon, for my rudeness in going to sleep.” 

“ Don’t mention it, my dear boy,” said the churchman. 

At that moment a great crow settled on one of the stones about 
forty yards away. Jim espied him, and in a second had whipped 
out his gun from his hip pocket, cocked it and fired. The big 
bird gave a great flap of his wings and fell to the ground. 

We were all startled by the suddenness of the transaction, 
with the exception of the Emperor, who exclaimed : 

“ I guess that bird is stone dead. Now, Canon, you can under- 
stand why the train robbers, Messrs. Sarpi & Co., had no show 
with Jim.” 

“ Wonderful indeed,” said the Canon. ‘‘ Why, if your son was 
poor he might earn a fine salary as an expert pistol-shot in a 
circus or in the London music halls.” 

Meanwhile Jim had run off and returned with the slain carrion 
crow. 

“ Here’s the game ; shall I put him in cold storage in the wagon, 
Daddy? Perhaps Mosshoo ” (Jim meant Monsieur) “Joseph 
might make a decent broil of him.” 

“ Oh, throw the horrid thing away, dear,” said Dora. “ I 
wonder how you can touch it.” 

“ Daddy and I once had to eat crow up on the mountains in 
California, didn’t we, Daddy? ” said Jim. 

“ You did, Jim, but I contented myself with a piece of old 
mule, and by gum, wasn’t it tough ? I shall always remember that 
meal.” 

The ladies seemed horror-stricken at the unsavory reminis- 
cences, but we men laughed heartily. As Jim was obeying his 
wife by hurling the corpse of the deceased scavenger over one of 
the stones, the Emperor remarked : 

“ I say, Jim, I will tell you what the Canon said when you 
were retrieving the game. He said you could earn a whole pile 
at a circus by your pistol shooting.” 

“ It’s as well to have something to fall back upon at any 
rate,” replied Jim, laughing. “ Isn’t it, Dora? If the governor ” 
(he called his father by this soubriquet occasionally, because it is 
an English custom to do so) “ gives away all his money as he 
seems to want to do, we shall have to do something for a living.” 

“ I can cook all right, and do the house cleaning,” said Dora. 

“ It is lucky that the Mother Superior let you keep that ging- 


328 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

ham gown,” said Jim. You won^t be able to wear anv swell 
frocks then ; you will have to give all those vanities up. How 
would you like to see Dora cleaning the doorsteps, Daddy ? She 
makes a fine slavey. I know that much. About her cooking I 
can’t give her a certificate. You shall dress up as a help, Dora, 
to show the governor what you look like.” 

“ Dora is a capital cook,” said Annie. “ She used to do a bit 
in that line at home.” 

The Canon gave Annie a thunder and lightning look, and 
thought bad words if he didn’t utter them, but said : 

“We used to allow Dora to amuse herself in the kitchen, that’s 
all.” 

“ By the way,” said my wife, who had let the others do the 
talking, “ we should be getting back soon to the camp. We 
ladies are to have a steam bath before dinner.” 

“That’s so,” said Dora, “won’t it be lovely? I am glad you 
mentioned it, Bella dear, so let’s be oflf as soon as possible.” 

As we were all pretty well grilled, we were none of us sorry 
to get away and leave Stonehenge to its solitary magnificence, 
though we were all very glad to have seen it.” 

The autos did their 25 miles an hour on the return journey, 
and immediately on our arrival we all retired, the ladies to take 
their bath and we men to have a snooze. After the former were 
through there was just time for us males to dash in and have a 
whifif of refreshing steam (there is nothing so cooling in warm 
weather as a Russian bath). So that we all sat down to dinner as 
fresh and bright as new pins. 

It was a delicious evening, even if the flies were a little bother- 
some. We had our coffee outside the drawing-room tent, and 
certainly it was most luxurious after the burden and heat of the 
day, to recline in a big, easy rocker with a cigar fit for a king 
between one’s teeth and everything one wanted in the shape of 
liquids at one’s elbow. 

“ The butler told me, sir,” said I, “ that there was a whole 
lot of people from Southampton and Bournemouth here to-day 
to see the camp.” 

“ Yes, and there are quite a few around still,” said the old ‘ 
man. “ It wouldn’t do to stay long in one place. The crowd of 
inquisitive sightseers would be as bad as a plague of flies. We 
shall proceed via Devizes and Bath to Wells. A gentleman 
who is abroad with his family, and is a friend of the Canon’s, 


The Bandit Plugger Shoots The Crow. 329 

has kindly given me permission to pitch my camp in his park, 
which is in the neighborhood of the latter. On our arrival we 
shall find everything as you see it now. The camp equipage, with 
most of the servants and the baggage, will go direct and so will 
arrive some hours before us. As Dora likes picnicking out of 
doors, we will take our lunch with us on the wagon to-morrow. 
We shall go to Wells on Sunday, attend divine service in the 
Cathedral and see Glastonbury and Cheddar Cliffs on Monday, 
which, I need not remind you all, is the glorious Fourth of July. 
I have ordered from town a supply of fireworks, and we will 
celebrate in good shape. By the way. Canon,’’ said the old man, 
abruptly changing the subject, “ to whom does Stonehenge be- 
long? ” 

“To the British nation, sir,” replied our churchman, rather 
pompously. “ It is one of our most prized relics of the distant 
past.” 

“ Do you suppose, Canon,” said the Emperor, “ that the Brit- 
ish nation would be inclined to sell these rocks ? If so, I should 
be prepared to give a big price for them. They could be moved 
somehow to Portsmouth and shipped on board an old iron-clad 
or a whaling ship and got through the Nicaraguan Canal to 
’Frisco. I would have them set up in the Golden Gate Park and 
make the American people a present of them.” 

This extraordinary and novel proposition fairly made the 
Canon gasp ; a look of mingled wonder and indignation suffused 
his open countenance with almost an apoplectic hue. Then the 
very absurdity of the idea fairly overwhelmed him and made 
him give way to a subdued, hysterical giggle. Before he was 
sufficiently recovered to formulate an intelligible reply, a peal of 
unrestrained merriment from all the rest of the party burst out 
with cyclonic violence, Dora laughing and holding her sides as 
she cried : 

“ Oh, Daddy, you will kill me. Fancy buying Stonehenge ! ” 
and she laughed again till she was fairly exhausted. All the 
rest of us were also convulsed. Even Jim, who was by no means 
emotional, burst out into several loud haw-haws, and Andrew, 
one of the footmen, who was waiting upon us, had to hurry away 
to conceal his mirth. 

Though I was as much tickled as the rest, I came to time 
sooner than the others and said : 

“ Perhaps you may have a chance, sir, of acquiring the prop- 


330 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

erty, if you wait till the British Empire and all its frills and fix- 
ings are sold off in lots by public auction.” 

“ Mr. Clark doubtless thinks that the stones are so precious 
that they require a better setting, their present one being too 
homely,” put in Bella. 

I fear, sir,” said the Canon, who had once more as a patriot 
and an archaeologist recovered his wonted composure, “ that the 
British nation would not consent to part with one of its most 
precious possessions. “ It’s a pity,” continued he, rather sar- 
castically, that there are no duplicate specimens, as in that case, 
sir, you might be accommodated.” 

The millionaire, who had been considerably disconcerted by this 
storm of ridicule, said good-humoredly: 

“ I see I have made a huge break, but let it pass, friends. We 
are new people, we Americans, and are apt to take a fancy to 
grandfather’s clocks, old rocks and antique fossils, barring al- 
ways maiden aunts,” and the jolly old chap, who wasn’t a bit 
rattled, tossed off a pony of brandy to the health of the Canon. 


Tintern Abbey By Daylight. 


331 


CHAPTER IX. 

TINTERN ABBEY BY DAYLIGHT. 

July 2, Saturday. 

We were all sorry to leave the New Forest. The first phase of 
our expedition has been, without a doubt, a complete success, 
and we felt that we could look forward to its later stages with 
pleasurable anticipations. 

We made a start this morning at about 7 a. m. There had 
been a refreshing shower that had laid the dust during the night, 
and we unanimously chose the Coach as our traveling machine 
for the first part of the journey. The Boudoir, Smoker, Buggy 
and Wagon accompanied us, the remainder of the cars were to 
proceed in the direction of Wells after the camp had been struck. 

We bowled merrily along over Salisbury Plain. The morning 
was fine and cool, and we enjoyed the ride. Our course was 
first directed via Amesbury to Devizes, a small Wiltshire town 
of considerable antiquity. In its vicinity the Canon drew our 
attention to Roundaway Park, the scene of a battle between the 
Cavaliers and the Roundheads, in which the former were vic- 
torious. He also pointed out an inn with the sign of a blue lion 
hung outside, where he said the ale was good, so we stopped to 
refresh. 

After climbing a fairly steep hill, we arrived at length at the 
gates of Bowood Park, the residence of the Marquis of Lans- 
downe, who is one of our numerous London acquaintances, and 
who had given the Emperor an order to view his property, on 
being told of the proposed expedition and of its probable route. 
Leaving the rest of the autos drawn up' near the lodge, we entered 
the park on the Coach and proceeded to the house. We greatly 
admired the wide stretch of grassy turf, the herds of deer, the 
grand bunches of trees and the winding, picturesque artificial 
lake. 

Finding, on inquiry, that the noble owner was absent, we gave 


332 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

our cards and his lordship’s letter to the servant, who summoned 
the steward, by whom we were shown over the splendid edifice, 
with its collection of rare pictures; we were then escorted over 
the extensive gardens, with its acres of glass houses, which 
seemed capable of supplying a fair sized town with flowers, fruit 
and vegetables. The steward had privately informed me that 
the Marquis paid two thousand pounds a year to the principal 
horticulturist, who provided all the help, comprising a small 
army of assistants, and supplied his lordship’s table and house- 
hold, both at home and in London, with every kind of garden 
produce, both in and out of season, the contractor making his 
profit by selling the surplus. This appeared to me to be a very 
sensible scheme, as it would be rather infra dig. for a nobleman 
himself to go into business as a fruit and vegetable merchant. 

Everything was in spick and span condition ; ability and method 
made their presence apparent everywhere. I am informed (by the 
way) that nearly all the principal gardeners and gamekeepers on 
the great English estates are Scotchmen. It is curious how certain 
nationalities take to certain occupations. The Scotch are also 
eminent as engineers and farmers, whereas the Jews and Italians 
seem to monopolize the fruit and old clothes trades, and in my 
country the Irish seem naturally to furnish most policemen, sa- 
loonkeepers and politicians in all the large cities. 

When we were through, the head gardener conducted us to a 
pleasant arbor on the well-shaven lawn, where a table was laid, 
furnished with the finest show of fruit I have ever seen. Not 
even Connecticut or New Jersey peaches could pretend to equal 
in flavor the luscious fruit that had been grown in the glass 
orchard houses of Bowood, and as for the grapes, the great 
bunches of glorious Muscats of Alexandria would have put to 
shame those plucked beside the brook Eschol by the Israelitish 
spies and brought by them to convince their unbelieving country- 
men of the pronounced fertility of the Promised Land. Most of 
the strawberries were quite too big to be eaten at a single bite. 
It is needless to say that we did ample justice to this delicious 
Eden-like repast, and the gentlemanly scientist under whose 
supervision these horticultural triumphs had been produced was 
obviously very pleased by the compliments that were showered 
upon him. The Emperor whispered in my ear : 

“ I say, Judge, what can I do to show my appreciation of Mr. 
MsCrowdie’s kindness ? He is too big a pot to offer money to.” 


Tintern Abbey By Daylight. 333 

I was in a quandary myself, when Dora, who had overheard 
the old man’s question, whispered back : 

“ Leave it to me. Daddy,” and immediately said, addressing the 
gardener : 

“We are extremely obliged to you, Mr. McCrowdie, for your 
kind attention, and I will certainly tell his lordship of the charm- 
ing reception you have given us. I beg you will accept this little 
present for your wife, if you have one,’’ and she unclasped a very 
pretty gold bangle, set with sapphires and diamonds, from her 
wrist, and, with a sweet smile, handed it to the astonished Scotch- 
man, who replied : 

“ I am sure Mrs. McCrowdie will prize this exquisite gift above 
everything, my lady,'" 2nd he bowed low to Dora as he received 
the bracelet from her fair hands. 

When we had remounted the Coach and were moving towards 
the lodge, the Emperor said : 

“ I guess, Dora, that that was a very brilliant hit of yours. It 
relieved me of a lot of embarrassment. I wanted to do some- 
thing, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t have offered cash to 
that almighty swell. He would have been insulted.” 

“ Ladies are more resourceful than men when it comes to a 
question of sheer tact,” said the Canon. 

“ I guess the Scotch lady will prize that bangle as having been 
worn by the queen of society,” said I. 

“Now, Judge, be careful,” said Jim, laughing; “you will 
end by making my wife really conceited, and so spoil her.” 

“ I say, my boy,” said the old man, “ we ought to have a place 
like this. It is a stunner, and no mistake. We have few great 
country seats in the States.” 

“ If you wait a bit. Daddy,” replied his son, “ we shall be fixed 
up all right soon in this line.” 

“ The gardener evidently thought that you ought to be the wife 
of a nobleman by the way he my-ladyed you, Dora,” said Bella. 

“ Please, Mrs. Slocum,” said the old man, “ don’t put such 
ideas into Dora’s head, or we shall have Jim taking out his 
papers of naturalization.” 

‘ I shouldn’t be surprised. Daddy,” said Jim, “ if you didn’t 
give me a lead in this respect yourself. Plow would the Earldom 
of ^o.?combe suit you ? ” 

“ Now you are talking through your hat, Jim,” said the old 
man, evidently not displeased at his son’s remark. 


334 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

We were once again on the road, and in a few more miles our 
procession entered the market town of Chippenham, which, as 
the Canon informed us, was considered an important place in the 
days of the Saxon Heptarchy, or rather Octarchy, and afterwards 
was for a time, during his wars with the Danes, used as King 
Alfred’s capital. Its population (about 6,000) has not varied 
much for hundreds of years. It actually returned two members 
to the House of Commons as late as 1867. For such a small place 
it has gained considerable renown, as it was here that Messrs. 
Brotherhood constructed the paddle wheels of the “ Great East- 
ern ” steamship. It was here, too, that Mr. Hampden lived a 
half century ago. This gentleman made himself conspicuous by 
offering to wager one thousand pounds that no one would be 
able to demonstrate practically that the world is anything else 
but a flat surface. A mathematical professor of Cambridge, 
England, took up the bet and easily managed to prove by stakes 
driven for a length of ten miles in a Lincolnshire canal that the 
water made a distinct curve, and therefore he gained the day 
and pocketed the dollars. 

It was at Chippenham also that resided the chemist who dis- 
covered and patented a substance used for coloring cheese, and 
known everywhere as Annatto. The same genius produced a 
fluid known as Pond’s Extract, and in the States as Wych Hazel. 
I learned all these details, of course, from our traveling cyclo- 
paedia, the noble Canon. 

We were now on the famous Bath road, which was the chief 
means of communication with the metropolis and the west of 
England in the old coaching days, and a most excellent highway 
it is still. We sped past Corsham, the seat of Lord Methuen, 
through the village of Pickwick, down Box Hill, through which 
the celebrated engineer, Brunei, in constructing the trunk rail- 
road track called the Great Western, caused to be cut the well- 
known Box Tunnel, nearly two miles in length. 

In this hill is also quarried a certain kind of limestone largely 
used in building. We made a short stop at Bath and visited the 
remains of the Roman baths, and the Pump Assembly Rooms, 
where Beau Brummel used to reign supreme as master of the 
ceremonies. 

Leaving Bath behind, we chose a road leading due north, and 
half an hour’s motoring landed us at Badminton, the seat 
of the Duke of Beaufort. To get there we had to traverse a 


335 


Tintern Abbey By Daylight. 

somewhat hilly country. Badminton was out of our course, 
but the Emperor particularly wished to visit it, as its noble owner 
is the president of the Coaching Club and is on terms’of consider- 
able intimacy with the old man, whose skill in handling the rib- 
bons and the excellence of whose dinners had won the Duke’s 
heart. His Grace was still in town, but we were shown over 
the house, stables and kennel, the last-named containing one of 
the very best bred packs of foxhounds in broad England, drafts 
from which pack are eagerly bought up by owners of foxhounds 
in the States. Jim was particularly interested, as he conceived 
an ambition of attaining some day the exalted position of an 
M. F. H. (Master of Foxhounds). I was certainly much sur- 
prised that the Emperor did not strenuously combat this idea of 
his son’s, for, if realized, it would do more towards changing 
his nationality than anything else. But I could see that the 
Emperor himself is hopelessly bitten with the idea of becoming 
a great English country magnate and the owner of a splendid 
estate furnished with an historic mansion. In a word, he is a vic- 
tim of the aristocratic fever, though he wouldn’t acknowledge it. 

Well, after leaving Badminton, we m.ade a rapid run to the 
banks of the Severn, and with the Buggy and Wagon were ferried 
across that fine river at a point called the “ New Passage,” leaving 
the rest of the autos for a while. Having landed on the other 
side we passed through Chepstow and made for Tintern Abbey, 
amid the exquisite ruins of which we consumed a late picnic 
lunch, which we attacked with full-fledged appetites. 

I suppose there must be few educated Americans who have not 
heard of Tintern Abbey, and seen photographs of its moonlit 
splendors. Well, it is beautiful enough in all conscience’s sake in 
the full glare of a July sun, and must be too solemn and romantic 
for anything illuminated by the pale rays of the Queen of Night. 
So said my wife, and her opinion was warmly echoed by her audi- 
ence. 

As we were assisting the first processes of digestion by the 
aid of coffee and tobacco (the ladies not disdaining the luxury 
of genuine Egyptian cigarettes), reclining on the cool long grass 
in a shady corner of the venerable ruins, and gazing aloft at the 
delicate tracery and perfect proportion of the broken arches, 
I observed to the Emperor: 

“ Who, sir, were the beneficent genii who sketched out for 
you the delightful route we are traversing? ” 


336 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

“ I suppose you mean geniuses,” replied the old man (he had 
never read a translation of the Arabian Nights). ‘‘There they 
are as large as life,” pointing as he spoke to the recumbent forms 
of the portly Canon and of the athletic Captain. “ I relied on 
their knowledge exclusively of this little island, and I guess I 
was right, eh, Judge? ” 

“ You have displayed a wise discretion, sir,” I replied. “ What 
one of these gentlemen doesn’t happen to know, the other is 
sure to.” 

“ While thanking you. Judge, for the compliment, it is not 
fair to couple my name in this connection with that of Canon 
Leighton,” replied Dawlish, “ for he did all the tracing out of the 
route of our expedition. I only heard of it, as you know, on the 
eve of the start, and only suggested a few amendments. I don’t 
know one-tenth of interesting England of what he does, except, 
perhaps, in regard to my native county. I dare say I might per- 
haps get him lost on Exmoor or Dartmoor, but when it comes to 
book and folklore, I am not in it. Such knowledge of England 
as I possess was acquired in the course of long bicycle tours I 
used to make years ago when home on furlough.” 

“ You are too modest. Captain,” said the Canon ; “ no one 
knows the roads of a country like a cyclist. You lie altogether 
over me in this very important respect, and as for Dartmoor, 
I should get lost on it, of course, and bogged, too, in a jiffy.” 

“ Oh, fancy seeing you up to your waist in a quagmire ! How 
funny you would look, papa,” said Annie, laughing. 

“ It’s no joke, though. Miss Leighton, being bogged, though 
you may think so,” said the Captain. “ I got into a fix of that 
nature once myself in making my way from Okehampton to 
Princetown, where the great convict establishment is situated, and 
I should have sunk altogether and have lost my life if I hadn’t 
by a lucky chance caught hold of the bough of a tough old thorn- 
bush, and so yanked myself out, but it was just as much as I 
could do, the slough seeming to suck me down. It was a pre- 
cious close call, I can tell you. So I am sure. Miss Leighton, 
you would not wish to see your dear father in such a predica- 
ment.” 

“ Of course not. Captain Dawlish,” said Annie. “ I only said 
it in fun.” 

“ Annie, you sometimes talk without thinking,” said her father 
reprovingly. 


Tintern Abbey By Daylight. 337 

The Emperor created a diversion in Miss Leighton’s favor by 
remarking : 

“ It wouldn’t do for a man filled up with liquor to try and 
cross that swamp you are talking of, Captain.’ 

“ Nor for a sober person, either, unless he knows the way, I 
guess,” replied Dawlish. 

We Vv’ere all loath to leave so lovely a spot, but time was get- 
ting on, so we mounted the buggy, and were not long in recross- 
ing the Severn and rejoining our train of autos. We continued 
down the left bank of the river as far as Avonmouth, where are 
some fine docks which have since the commencement of the cen- 
tury taken the place of the old and inconvenient ones at Bristol 
City. 

We then made our way over the rolling expanse of the Dur- 
dam Downs to the beautiful town of Clifton, the English Mont- 
pelier, and crossed over the splendid suspension bridge that spans 
at a height of 300 feet the winding, picturesque Avon, the pre- 
cipitous cliffs of the south side of which are ornamented by the 
dense foliage of Leigh Woods, with its romantic Nightingale 
Valley ; then, following a grand road, we passed successively the 
pleasant seaside resorts of Clevedon and “ Weston-Super-Mare,” 
or, as it is popularly known, “ Weston-Super-Mud,” so called 
from the vast expanse of alluvial deposit revealed at low water. 

The going was so good that we cyclists betook ourselves to 
our wheels and rode most of the remaining portion of the jour- 
ney, till we arrived at our camp, that had been pitched, as I have 
said, in a private park east of Wells, near a place called Shepton 
Mallet, having spent a most enjoyable day. 

22 


338 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER X. 

A GRAND CELEBRATION. 

July 3, Sunday. 

Mossly Park is about four miles east of Wells. It occupies 
a rising ground from whence a view can be obtained of the city 
and of the adjacent Cheddar hills in the near distance. Our 
tents were placed in a hollow near a delightful purling trout 
stream, the arrangement of the camp being the same as before. 
The park is a noble one, with clumps of magnificent trees. A 
large herd of pure-bred Jersey cows combines ornament with 
utility and makes an excellent substitute for deer. The Emperor 
decided to tool us to-day in the auto coach to church. On our 
arrival at the Cathedral, we found a considerable crowd awaiting 
us. Among the spectators was quite a number of women who 
had doubtless come to inspect our ladies’ exquisite summer toil- 
ets, as well as the autos. We were conducted to stalls in the 
choir reserved for church dignitaries. I was much impressed by 
the excellence of the singing, and by the awesome beauty of the 
edifice. If a man can’t feel holy in such a place, he is in a hope- 
less condition indeed. The dean (a fine, aristocratic looking man) 
read the service, and, somewhat to our astonishment, our Canon 
preached the sermon, which was a brief, simple affair on the for- 
giveness of injuries, a God-like quality, the great distinguishing 
feature of the Christian religion. I had somehow a feeling all 
through the discourse that it was directed at Dora and the mag- 
nanimous manner with which she had forgiven the former unkind 
behavior of her relatives, but it may only have been my imag- 
ination. After the service we were formally introduced to the 
Dean and Canons, and, acompanied by them, were shown round 
the grand old Cathedral. Our Canon did the talking and sup- 
plied the information, which at first I thought was a bit of out- 
rageous cheek on his part, but it turned out that he is a great 
personal friend of the Dean and had been specially invited by 


A Grand Celebration. 


339 


him not only to preach, but to play the part of cicerone after- 
wards. There was some scaffolding in the nave, and the Em- 
peror, in answer to an inquiry, was informed that a portion of 
the Cathedral was being carefully restored, but that the work had 
nearly come to a standstill for want of funds, and that it would 
require ten thousand pounds to complete the job. The Emperor 
did not say anything at the time, but several days after our de- 
parture the Dean received a letter from the old man thanking 
him for his kindness and enclosing a check for the sum required. 

We lunched at the Deanery, a curious sort of moated grange. 
It was built, I guess, in the tough old times when a man’s house 
might be burned over his head and his family murdered before 
he knew where the trouble came from. The moat looks pictur- 
esque enough, but I should judge it is not healthy to have stag- 
nant water around. The Dean entertained us in a charming, 
subdued fashion. There was no show or ostentation, but every- 
thing was done in excellent taste. What perfect gentlemen the 
English church dignitaries seem to be, at least those whom I have 
met, and they are, I suppose, a fair sample of the bunch, polished, 
refined, at the same time not pedantic (this remark gives our 
Canon a sly hit, as he is not flawless in this respect), courteous 
and hospitable. 

While I was talking this evening to our friend, the Canon, 
he told me that the chief duties of a Dean are to entertain the 
clergy of his diocese, and to exhibit to them the example of a 
cultured, scholarly gentleman. I suppose the Canon meant to 
have inserted the word Christian before that of gentleman, but 
he didn’t. I conclude he forgot to. The Dean seemed to evince 
the keenest pleasure in escorting our queen about, and no wonder, 
as, apart from the magic of her charming presence, she has a 
method of her own of insensibly making a man feel pleased with 
himself. 

We had tea at the Deanery. It was quite a function, as a 
number of ladies and gentlement, friends of the Dean, put in an 
appearance. They had obviously been asked to meet the Emperor 
and his party. The Dean’s wife, a pleasant, fussy and rather 
nervous woman, seemed a little overwhelmed at first, but pulled 
herself together and played the part of an affable hostess. The 
Dean and his wife, with several of the Canons, accepted invita- 
tions to accompany us to-morrow to Glastonbury and spend the 
vwhole day in our society. 


340 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

We returned to the camp in time to take Russian baths before 
dinner. 


July 4, Monday. 

This is the day on which every true American, rich and poor, 
old and young, should feel his heart go pit-a-pat at the mere 
mention of its name. I don’t think there’s so much enthusiasm 
about the fourth as there used to be, but we at least were going 
to celebrate in right royal fashion, though I confess it seerns 
queer making a splurge about the valor of our forefathers, in 
the heart of the country of their oppressors. I felt in fine trim, 
and already at 5.30 saw evidence of activity in the shape of work- 
men putting up fixings for fireworks and (I rubbed my eyes at 
the sight) even a liberty pole. Upon my soul, if I didn’t think 
this was going a trifle too far. It was rather like pulling the 
lion’s tail in his own den. The Emperor had told me all about 
it. He was going to give a free feed to the people. Oxen and 
sheep were to be roasted whole, sports, side shows, fireworks in 
the park, while a special train was to bring a whole crowd of 
friends down from town. Funny notion to ask a lot of Britishers 
to join in 'Celebrating the defeat and humiliation of their own 
country. 

As I was engaged in writing up my diary in the Smoker, there 
entered one of the footmen whose first (and as far as we are 
concerned) only name is John (this is, by the way, as common 
an appellation amongst English men servants as Mary is among 
women help), with a lemon squash I had ordered. When I 
had drank the cooling beverage, I said, “ John, what is the event 
we are going to commemorate to-day ? ” 

He looked puzzled for a moment, and then replied : “ Isn’t 
it Mrs. Clark’s birthday, sir? ” 

Dora, unlike many popular society ladies, was literally wor- 
shiped by the domestics, and when anything particular was on 
hand they generally supposed it was being done in her honor. 
After all, John is an Englishman, born and bred, and why should 
he trouble himself about the high days and holidays of a foreign 
country ? 

Our guests began to arrive about ten o’clock, including the 
American Ambassador and his wife and daughter, the noble 
Duchess, the President of the S. D. A., the Earl of Tipton and 
some of the smartest people in town, Americans as well as Eng- 


A Grand Celebration. 


341 


lish. When all were assembled, including the Dean and Chapter 
of Wells Cathedral, the old man (v/ho was as ready to burst with 
importance as a bottle of beer on a warm day) showed them all 
around the camp, carefully explaining everything. I could see 
that our guests, unimpressionable society folk as they are, were 
knocked completely off their bases by sheer wonder, the bou- 
doir, kitchen and utility cars, with the bath tent, being the special 
objects of interest. After some light refreshments had been 
served, the whole party mounted the cars, all the available ones 
being called into requisition, namely, the coach, buggy, the bou- 
doir, smoker, service and utility, and lastly the wagon. On the 
latter rode the chief butler and three of his subordinates. Jim 
calls the wagon the fire department, and when asked the thusness 
of his remark, replied that the contents of the machine were des- 
tined to extinguish the blaze of thirst. 

All told, we were close on one hundred persons, but so com- 
modious were the auto cars that we could have found room for 
quite a number more. The Emperor thought it prudent to take 
the utility with us, as he is continually haunted with the idea of 
a possible breakdown. It did not take us long to reach Glaston- 
bury, and it did not take our Canon long either to get into action 
as a showman. I think it was one of the proudest moments of his 
life, standing in the great refectory, or still greater church (or 
rather, what remains of each), and holding forth before all these 
grand folk, describing in eloquent terms the departed glories of 
Glastonbury Abbey, of the multitudes of poor folk who used to 
be fed at its gates; how its mitred Abbot ranked with those of 
Reading, Christchurch, Bury St. Edmunds, and Romsey took his 
seat in the King’s council, cheek by jowl with belted earls and 
feudal barons, and rivaled his secular brethren in knowledge of 
the arts of war and of the chase, and infinitely excelled them in 
every other quality that helps to distinguish men from brutes. 
How St. Dunstan was one of the first Abbots before he retired 
to his cell to wrestle with the devil, and the Canon so embellished 
his lecture with legend and tale that his eloquence almost seemed 
to repeople the majestic ruins with cowled figures. Certainly 
the worthy churchman appears to shine to far greater advantage 
as a lecturer than a preacher. When, at length, we were through 
and had climbed up the neighboring little conical hill to inspect 
the sacred thornbush that tradition says was planted by Joseph 
pf Arimathea and blossoms on Christmas Day, the ready butler 


342 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

was on hand with his merrie men and great medieval-looking 
two-handed silver tankards filled with cool, fragrant beverages. 
I think the cider cup excelled our seneschal’s previous efforts, 
and then each of our guests was seen waving a little American 
flag, and some one in the crowd struck up the “ Star-Spangled 
Banner,” and nearly every one (except the servants, of course), 
strange to say, appeared to know the words, and the volume of 
sound was grand, and the old man was visibly affected. How we 
all at this psychical moment seemed akin, and the Canon’s strange 
words about all of us English-speaking people being inheritors 
of the Promises, seemed to ring strangely in my ears. As we left 
the hill to once more mount the cars, the old man whispered in 
my ear: 

“Wasn’t it grand. Judge? I never asked them to do it; I 
didn’t give them a flag. They are noble-hearted men, these 
Englishmen.” 

‘ And English women, sir, too,” said I, pointing to Dora, who 
was laughing and chatting with the President of the S. D. A. 

“ Ah, don’t talk of her,” replied the old man, almost solemnly. 
Dora was his fetich, the apple of his eye. 

It was powerful hot, so our autos were sent along at their best 
pace in the direction of the famous Cheddar Cliffs, about ten 
miles northwest of Wells. We ascended to the top of the ro- 
mantic winding pass with the weird frowning cliffs on either 
hand, and then thoroughly explored the caves, which, though 
interesting, are utterly insignificant compared with the Mammoth 
Caves of Kentucky. You could put all these Cheddar holes into 
one of the smallest of the latter and lose it, and there are stalac- 
tites and stalagmites in the Mammoth each one of which is as 
big as the whole Cheddar outfit, but then the United States in 
point of natural curios can whip the universe. 

Before returning to the camp, we went purposely out of our 
direct route in order to visit the scene of the battle of Sedgemoor. 
It is difficult to make out the relative positions that the com- 
batants occupied, owing to the disappearance of the reens or huge 
ditches that played such an important part in the business, but 
the Canon, assisted by his brilliant imagination, gave a graphic 
account of the conflict, and pointed out the spot where he sup- 
posed the regular troops were posted under Churchill, afterwards 
Duke of Marlborough, and the one where the brave Cornish 
miners and equally heroic Devonshire and Somersetshire yokels 


A Grand Celebration. 


343 


with flails, scythes and pickaxes made such a stubborn resistance 
long after they had been deserted by their leader, that dastardly 
coward, the Duke of Monmouth, a disgrace to his order, and who, 
it is satisfactory to think, lost his head on the scaffold. 

The sun was hot and the Canon a trifle prosy, and no one was 
sorry when at length we arrived in camp once more and found a 
gorgeous lunch laid out in a special marquee that had been sent 
down from town for the occasion. British and American flags 
were everywhere crossed. The floral decorations were magnifi- 
cent, both in the marquee and elsewhere, especially in the draw- 
ing-room and in Dora and Jim’s sleeping tent. 

After lunch the Dean and the indefatigable Canon took several 
of the guests to Wells to show them the Cathedral, but most of 
us were content to have a quiet time in camp, some of us men 
indulging in Russian baths. 

Dora did the honors at a smart garden party she gave in and 
around the Drawing-room tent, at which were present, in ad- 
dition to our London visitors, many of the county families of 
Somersetshire and Dorsetshire, some of them coming from quite 
considerable distances, the invitations having been sent through 
the Dean, to whom carte blanche had been given. So, as may be 
supposed, our camp assumed a most brilliant aspect. 

By 6 p. M. the populace began to assemble in the park and all 
sorts of games were indulged in. The local athletes came out in 
force to compete for the valuable prizes provided for by the giver 
of the show. Dawlish donned his running attire, and actually 
won the loo and 220 yard dashes and was second in the quarter. 
He also landed the shot-putting with the throw of 37 ft. 6 in., 
very good, considering he had had no practice for a long time, 
and finished up by competing in the mile race and came in third. 
So he covered himself with glory, but magnanimously refused 
to accept any of the rewards for his prowess, except the approv- 
ing smiles of Annie Leighton, and he got plenty of those. After 
the athletic sports came rustic games, such as climbing a greasy 
pole for a leg of mutton fixed on the top. This, of course, was 
secured by the thoughtful peasant who had had the foresight to 
bring with him a supply of rosin to make his hands sticky. Then 
there was grinning through a horse collar ; wrestling, catch-as- 
you-catch-can ; back sword play (an old English sport recently 
revived) ; boxing and tugs of war, in all of which the Zummer- 
setshire lads showed that they still were possessed of the mettle 


344 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

of their ancestors, some of whom doubtless fought with grim de- 
termination at Sedgemoor. 

The sports being over, Dora presented the prizes. She invested 
the proud victors with their rewards in her inimitable style, 
beamed sweetly on the successful competitors and said a few 
kind words to each in turn. Her dress was an exquisite confec- 
tion, a princess gown in costly point de Venise, over rich white 
corded silk, and a big Duchess of Gainsborough hat to match. 

During these events a gang of men cooks were roasting and 
basting the carcasses of oxen and sheep, which were suspended 
over huge fires in another part of the park, and on the conclusion 
of the sports a multitude of the humbler guests were soon sub- 
duing their hunger, seated at long tables, with plentiful supplies 
of roast beef, mutton and bread, plum pudding and cheese, 
washed down by draughts of home-brewed ale, and during this 
Homeric banquet the founder of the feast and his particular 
guests, which included the writer of this diary, sat down to a 
sumptuous dinner in the marquee. Patriotic toasts were given. 
The American Ambassador made a graceful speech in proposing 
Mr. Clark’s health, the Earl of Bermondsey honoring Dora in 
like manner. 

When it became sufficiently dark, the grand display of fire- 
works commenced, which were pronounced to be one of the finest 
ever seen on land. I say specially on land, as naval displays are 
necessarily on a much grander scale. Certainly Mr. Brock, who 
arranged the show, said it equaled, if it did not excel, any of the 
wonderful exhibitions his firm had given at the Crystal Palace. 

In a word, all went merry as a marriage bell, and the fete 
from start to finish was a complete success. 

We accompanied the guests to Wells and saw such of them 
who were London-bound off in the special train, amid great en- 
thusiasm, and then we returned, tired but happy, with the con- 
sciousness of having spent a day which would live long in the 
memories of all present. 

To give a shining instance of the Emperor’s taste and consid- 
eration, each lady guest was presented before leaving, as a sou- 
venir, with an exquisite costly jewelled hand-painted fan, on 
which was depicted Columbia and Britannia standing side by side, 
crossing together the flags of their respective countries, 


A Grand Celebration. 


345 

July 5, Tuesday. 

Our first objective to-day was the Isle of Athelney, in the 
Parrott River, a small winding Somersetshire stream. In point 
of historic interest, Athelney is rivalled, but not excelled, by 
Magna Charta Island, near Staines, where the first foundation of 
English liberty was laid. Every school child knows all about 
Athelney, for it was here that the famous King Alfred, being 
temporarily worsted by the national foes, the Northmen, sought 
refuge, and while disguised as a peasant made his immortal 
break by allowing his landlady’s cakes (which he had been told 
to watch) to burn and spoil. So runs the legend, and so let it 
run, in spite of skeptical commentators, for this is one of the 
most charming and picturesque of our nursery stories. In Al- 
fred’s time Athelney was in the midst of inaccessible swamps, 
which have long since been drained, so the eager tourist must to 
a certain extent exercise his imagination. From Athelney we 
sped on to Taunton, a place famous in the civil wars, and which 
seems haunted by the hideous judicial murders of that blood- 
thirsty wretch. Chief Justice Jeffreys, after the quelling of the 
Monmouth insurrection. There was nothing to detain us in this 
quiet county town, so we pulled out and made for Bridgewater, 
passing en route through a verdant piece of English countryside, 
and so on along the coast to Minehead, a pretty little seaside re- 
sort, built on the base of a bold, rocky headland. We halted here 
for a sea bath, which we thoroughly enjoyed. Once more on the 
road, the Captain suggested an amendment to the original scheme, 
which had been that we should follow the coast to Linton. He 
now proposed that we should turn sharp to the left at Dunster, 
boldly plunge into the forest of Exmoor, and make our way along 
the rough track to Dulverton and reach Linton by way of the 
valley of the Lynn. The Emperor, who wished to test the hill- 
climbing powers of his autos, fell in at once with the idea, and 
we were soon commencing our venturesome task. We trusted 
entirely to the Captain’s intimate knowledge of the locality. Nor 
did he fail us. The Canon for the time entirely abdicated his post 
as cicerone and general counselor in favor of his English con- 
frere. The autos found no difficulty in surmounting the certainly 
formidable hills. The job was made easier by the windings of 
the road. The wild scenery, the fresh, exhilarating mountain air, 
the curious tors or sugar-loaf shaped hills peculiar to this part 
of the country made our ride a delicious one. Dawlish pointed 


346 A 20th Centiir}^ Cinderella. 

out the chief rendezvous of the Exmoor pack of deer hounds, 
which pursue and kill (when they can catch him) the lordly stag. 
It is curious that such a sport can still be carried on in thickly 
peopled little England with more, than twenty times as many 
people to the square mile as the United States. The Captain re- 
counted several interesting anecdotes of the famous parson Hale 
who flourished in the first half of the nineteenth century, and 
actually used to hunt with the deer hounds till he reached the 
patriarchal age of ninety-three. He seems to be a kind of patron 
saint of Exmoor. Jim and I wondered how the horses could 
climb such steep places and much less come down them. As to 
the latter the Captain explained that they (the horses) in some 
places actually squat down on their haunches and kind of to- 
boggan down, their riders clinging to their manes and necks. 
This seems a trifle slim, but I could not detect whether or no 
the gallant officer was pulling our legs, since he (the Captain) 
has such a serious air with him when he is relating anything. 
Anyway he talks in a most fascinating manner, and Annie seems 
to drink in every word he says. If ever a girl could be said to 
be head over ears in love with a man, that girl is certainly Annie 
Leighton. 

We arrived in good time at Dulverton on the outskirts of the 
Forest, which, by the way, is rather a misnomer according to our 
way of thinking, as there is not an overplus of trees on Exmoor, 
which mostly consists of open moorland, but the Canon tells me 
that the meaning of Forest did not necessarily imply a dense 
growth of timber, the Norman and Plantagenet Kings afforesting 
or disafforesting a district at will for hunting purposes. In the 
former case all the habitations were destroyed, and the population 
removed in order that the deer should unmolested range through 
the cruelly wasted region. The Captain called a halt at a tumble- 
down looking hostelry, where he said excellent home-brewed ale 
used to be sold. At hearing this the Canon pricked up his ears. 
Oh, what a jolly friar he would have made. I believe, by the 
way, this is the second time that I have made this observation 
when referring to our churchman, but I can’t help it, it’s so ap- 
propriate. Dawlish was right about the ale, even the ladies had 
a glass apiece, and the Canon and Jim each emptied a quart 
pewter (the English for a tankard). 

We were now in the country of Lorna Doone, and we Ameri- 
cans were all on tiptoe of excitement, even including the Emperor, 


A Grand Celebration. 


347 


who had actually read the novel from cover to cover, quite a feat 
for him. As we rolled along a fine undulating road in the di- 
rection of Linton, we were continually letting off volleys of 
questions at the Captain, in regard to the location of various 
places and scenes mentioned in the famous novel. I am certain 
that the Captain seized the opportunity of jollying us dreadfully, 
as he pointed out where each incident happened as if he were 
the accredited guide of the neighborhood. I could detect a sly 
humorous twinkle in his leeward eye occasionally, and I fear that 
he was drawing sometimes on his imaginative reserves like the 
Arab guides of Palestine, who will calmly show you the grave of 
Noah, the pillar of salt into which Lot’s wife was said to be 
changed, or the withered stump of the identical fig tree cursed 
by Jesus Christ. Minute accuracy of hypothetical details is 
always suspicious. But I confess to having been carried away 
by the general enthusiasm when the Doone Valley was mentioned 
by Bella, who had read “ Lorna Doone ” so often as nearly to 
know it by heart. 

“ Surely we must visit that,” said she. “ I am just burn- 
ing to see the water slide up which Jan Ridd climbed in order 
to visit his Lorna, there being no other possible way of entering 
the Doone Valley, surrounded as it is by precipitous unscalable 
cliffs.” 

“ Oh do let us go,” chimed in Annie, ‘‘ and I want to see the 
Wizard’s Slough into which Carver Doone sank out of sight after 
being beaten by Jan Ridd. Perhaps the oak tree is still stand- 
ing off which Jan tore a bough by a tremendous exertion of his 
enormous strength as he passed, and with which he smote and 
slew Carver’s horse. Oh, won’t it be delicious, Dora ? ” 

“ It would be,” replied that lady, cautiously, ‘‘ if they are really 
there, but I fear Blackmore, like all novelists, drew a bit on his 
fancy.” 

“ There is no if about it,” said the Captain. “ I am afraid you 
will all be dreadfully disappointed. The Doone Valley is a dead 
give away, a most complete sell ; an invalid on crutches can walk 
over the low hillocks that surround the boasted Valley. The 
water slide never had any material existence, except in Black- 
more’s fertile brain, and as for the Wizard’s Slough, well it may 
be charitable to say that it has since been drained or filled up, as 
no trace of it, as described in the novel, exists, though there are 


348 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

plenty of bogs and quicksands on Exmoor which are capable of 
swallowing up men and horses.” 

“ Oh, what a shame, Captain, to rudely shatter my lovely 
dreams in such fashion,” said Bella, with a toss of her pretty 
head, “ but I must go to the Doone Valley just to say I have 
been.” 

“ How often do our earthly hopes turn out to be nothing more 
substantial than airy mirages,” said the Canon in a low melan- 
choly tone, with a comical twinkle in his gray eyes. 

“ Now don’t sigh like a mock turtle, papa, it is bad enough 
to be disillusioned besides being chaffed about it into the bargain,” 
said Annie. 

“ If the thing is a fraud it ought to be exposed in the guide 
books,” said the Emperor decidedly. 

“ And injure the tourist business? The compilers of such pro- 
ductions know better than that,” said Dawlish. 

People like being imposed upon. If the owner of a dime 
museum were to advertise largely that he had on show the skull 
of the whale that swallowed Jonah, the donkey’s jawbone with 
which Samson smashed the Philistines, or one of Pharaoh’s 
chariot wheels, thousands would go to see them, though they 
knew all the time they were rank swindles,” said the Canon. 

“ I think you ought not to have told us about the deception. 
Captain Dawlish,” said Annie. “ You should have allowed us 
to see for ourselves.” 

” And where then would my reputation for a reliable guide 
be? ” replied the Captain. “ Away down to zero. No, honesty is 
the best policy.” 

“ But honesty is very horrid sometimes,” said Bella, “ but we 
must do the Valley in spite of what you have said.” 

And we did do it, and we all agreed with the Captain that it 
was a fraud, but “ the watersmeet ” was not, and the ride to Lin- 
ton along the banks of the Bagsworthy river is quite too too, 
the old man and the Canon making it in the buggy while we 
people struggled along on our wheels. Linton is one of the most 
charming places I have ever seen, and we were sorry to enjoy 
only such a brief peep at it. When we had climbed the precipitous 
hill that leads out of Linton through Combe Martin in the direc- 
tion of Ilfracombe, we mounted our wheels again and had a de- 
licious ride to the camp, which we should have passed, so hidden 
^way was it from the public ken in a cosy little moorland valley, 


A Grand Celebration. 349 

if OJje of the servants had not been posted near the main road to 
watch for and inform us as to its whereabouts. 

It was comparatively early, so we all dressed ourselves in street 
costumes, had dinner and were conveyed on the Boudoir and 
buggy to Ilfracombe, where we spent a very pleasant evening 
on the sea front. Jim had seemed rather abstracted, and Dora 
asking him what he was thinking about, he spoke as follows : 

“ I got a telegram from my skipper yesterday to say that ‘ The 
Dora ' had arrived at Lundy, and is ready to receive us. I have 
just wired him that I shall be on board to-night so as to see that 
everything is ready for you people to-morrow. The program 
is, that we play a round or two at golf on the famous Westward 
Ho links in the morning, and picnic afterwards somewhere or 
other. How’s that for high ? ” 

“ It is very nice no doubt. But it is horrid that you should 
run away from me,” said Dora, pouting, “ but if you must go, 
well, I suppose I shall have to bear it as well as I can.” 

“ The separation won’t be a very prolonged one, dear,” said 
my wife, “ only a few hours.” 

But hours seem days sometimes,” said Dora with a sigh, 
but we poor women must do as we are told.” 

“ I think it’s we who do as you tell us, my dear,” said the old 
man, and this was so obviously true that we all burst out laugh- 
ing, even including Dora herself. If ever there was a sovereign 
with unlimited authority over her obedient subjects, it was Dora. 

As we left the town, Jim mounted the buggy, saying: 

“ I will meet you people at the Golf House, Westward Ho, say 
at nine a. m.” 

“ So long, Jim,” cried the old man, “ take care of yourself, my 
boy.” 

Dora and Jim each blew a kiss to the other, as the latter glided 
swiftly away into the darkness. 

“ Jim will be on board before we are in bed,” said Dawlish, “ at 
the gait he is going.” 

“ I wish I were going on board too,” said Dora dolefully. 

You will be getting jealous, Dora, now that you will have 
to share your husband’s affections with a rival,” said my wife, 
laughing. 

“ A rival ! Surely you are joking. How can you say such a 
thing ? ” said our queen excitedly. 


350 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

“ Ships are feminine, and your rival is a steam yacht, dear,’^ 
replied Bella, laughing. 

“Jim may love her as much as he likes. I am not jealous of 
15,000 horse-power aluminum kind of steam shemales,’’ said 
Dora, smiling. “ I am only afraid of the two-legged ones.” 


The Old Man Makes A Kick. 


351 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE OLD MAN MAKES A KICK. 

July 6, Wednesday. 

We had only a short run to make in order to reach our desti- 
nation, and we all felt excited as we were to see to-day Jim’s 
grand new yacht, whose praises had been dinned into our ears 
incessantly by her enthusiastic owner. 

We left our wheels to repose in the interior of the Coach, in 
order to reserve our powers for the Westward Ho golf links, 
which rank in the estimation of experts with those of Hoylake 
and of Sandwich. 

We passed through the old-time town of Barnstaple on the 
Taw, and were now well in Devonshire, Captain Dawlish’s native 
county, immortalized by Charles Kingsley in his great novel 
“ Westward Ho ! ” We had brought two copies with us, and it 
(the book) had been familiar to all of us (except to the Emperor 
and Jim) from early youth. 

As we approached Bideford there was no occasion for the 
Canon to expatiate on the merits and virtues of its bridge, we 
could have told him as much as he knew himself about its an- 
tiquity and its singularity as a property holder. The river Tor- 
ridge seemed as familiar to us as if we had been reared on its 
banks, for Kingsley himself had been our instructor. We could 
almost imagine that we saw Amyas Leigh, the golden-haired 
giant, the slight, slender figure of his brother Francis, scholar, 
student and courtier ; Sir Richard Grenville, the brave warrior and 
statesman ; the light-hearted Will Cary ; the portly person of Jack 
Brimblecombe and the weather-beaten form of Salvation Yeo, 
standing on the further bank as we began to cross the bridge; 
but it was only our imagination, for instead of the quaintly attired 
men of the sixteenth century we found on nearer inspection only 
a crowd of rather vulgar up-to-date citizens and summer re- 


' 352 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

sorters, gazing with admiration and astonishment at our imposing 
array of autos. 

We turned to the right and sped through the interesting vil- 
lage of Northam, and as we did so, we could hear the Atlantic 
breakers thundering on the pebble beach, as it did when Mrs. 
Leigh was straining her eyes to catch the last glimpse of old 
Saltoun’s barque, that was bearing away her two chivalrous sons 
and many another noble soul to the far West, on its search after 
the lost Rose. 

We found Jim in high glee awaiting us in the club house. He 
had taken care to write previously to the secretary for permission 
to allow our party to play, and had received a very hospitable 
reply making us free of the links and club house as long as we 
liked. We had brought our bags and clubs with us. A foursome 
was speedily formed, Dawlish and Annie being pitted against 
Bella and I, while the Canon prepared to do battle with friend 
Jim. Dora did not number golfing among her accomplishments 
as yet, for she had told me privately that she never got a chance 
of playing at Dover. So she and the old man followed the con- 
testants on foot, and' watched the struggle for supremacy between 
the players in the foursome. Annie and my wife were about 
equally matched, though the former evidently did not play the 
top of her game, owing to the nervous anxiety of having to per- 
form under the indulgent eye of her beau ; she missed the globe 
twice, foozled several of her drives and brassey shots, wildly 
slashed away at the furze bush with her niblick, and failed on 
more than one occasion to loft her ball, and had to do a lot of 
sand digging in the big bunker at the fifth hole, yet she putted 
very well, and so made up for many of her deficiencies. 

Dawlish drove a far longer ball than I, but was uncertain in 
his iron play. I could see, though, that there was the making of 
a brilliant player in him. I am a steady third-class player, and 
can keep pegging away through the green without doing any- 
thing exceptional, still without making any bad breaks. 

They were by far the finest links I had ever played on, and I 
much doubt if they have their equal in the States. There are 
few really first-class natural links on the long American Atlantic 
seaboard. 

Well, we scrambled along and were all even at the ninth hole, 
and after an exciting match my partner and I gained the victory 
by one up, quite a number of holes being halved. 


The Old Man Makes A Kick. 


353 


Jim is a fair performer, whereas the Canon had been (though 
he had kept this fact dark) almost in the first rank twenty years 
ago. Though short of practice like us all, he, by pure science, 
managed to extinguish his strong but rather wild adversary, by 
three up and two to play. 

The day was so fine and we were all so keen that after a 
short rest and a moderate refreshment (how nice Scotch whisky 
and soda tastes after a round of golf!) we started out again. 
This time Annie showed immensely improved form, whereas my 
wife, who began to tire rapidly, fell off slightly in hers, with 
the result that we were beaten by two up and one to play, whereas 
the Canon smashed his adversary (who played a very uneven 
game) by six up and five to play. 

“ You are a dark horse. Canon,” said Jim, “ you might have 
won a whole wad of bills from me. I made a holy show of my- 
self. Jerusalem ! ” said he, throwing himself into a rocker and 
draining off a well-iced beverage, “ but these are tony links ! ” 

“ It makes one long to play,” said Dora, ‘‘ it is a lovely game. 
I must get the Judge and uncle to teach me.” 

“ I will have some links laid out in my place in Scotland,” said 
the old man. 

“ You needn’t do that, sir,” said Dawlish, “ the Scottish coast 
is surrounded with the grandest links in the world ; St. Andrews, 
Macnahanish on the Mull of Cantyre, Dornoch, Prestwick and 
heaps of others. What do you say to our doing a bit of golfing 
in September at North Berwick, after we have got through the 
cream of the grouse shooting? There are nice links and many 
of the holes possess a ladylike shortness ,and there’s lots of people 
of the right sort, and plenty of fun there.” 

“ Oh, do let’s. Daddy,” cried Dora, claping her hands with glee. 

“ Of course we will if you like it, my dear Dora,” replied the 
old man fondly, “ but it’s time for grub, my stomach tells me. 
Shall we have it on board your yacht, Jim, or if not, where? I 
don’t care a cent as long as I can get provender of some kind. 
I haven’t walked so far for years, nor did I ever enjoy a tramp 
more.” 

‘‘ I have arranged that we should have lunch in Clovelly Park, 
sir,” replied Jim. “ We will go there on the Smoker accom- 
panied by the Boudoir. I took the liberty of sending on the 
Wagon to our rendezvous, with the butler, and two footmen, and 
22 


354 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

a chef, so we shall find everything in readiness. Mr. Candy, the 
club secretary, will accompany us.” 

” That’s right, my boy,” said the old man, ” then let’s be off 
as soon as possible.” 

We had a lovely drive to Clovelly Park, the former home of 
the Carews or the Carys, as they used to be called. We found 
that our lunch was waiting for us at an extremely picturesque 
spot called the “ Huntsman’s Leap,” which derives its singular 
name from a romantic story, an account of which is graphically 
given in the novel “ Westward Ho! ” From this vantage ground 
shaded all around by wide spreading beech and oak trees, we 
could command a fine view. In the distance we could make out 
Lundy Island with its safety harbor, that was marked by an ex- 
tended break- water and a number of masts of vessels. To our 
left, apparently close at hand, but in reality ten miles distant, 
appeared in all its rocky prominence Hartland Point, while in the 
immediate foreground, sheer down three hundred feet in depth, 
yawned the terrible chasm where the unfortunate lover and his 
gallant steed met their doom hundreds of years ago. We found 
the Captain of the “ Dora ” and several of his officers awaiting us, 
to whom we were ceremoniously introduced by Jim. These com- 
prised Captain Beattie and Mr. Munro the second officer, with 
Mr. Macdougall, the chief engineer, and Doctor McPherson, the 
yacht’s medico, who are, as their names imply, all Scotchmen, and 
very jolly, gentlemanly fellows they turned out to be. They had 
all served in the Royal Navy and wore the uniform of the Naval 
Reserve. Captain Beattie had lately commanded one of the 
White Star Liners, the others with the first and second officers 
(the last two named Dinney and Mackay respectively, and who 
were on this occasion left in charge of the “ Dora ”) had all been 
some time in the service of the Donald Currie Line of Cape 
steamers, and were in consequence (it is needless to say) most 
efficient officers; in fact, finer could not be found anywhere, as 
Jim informed us. 

After lunch we strolled about the fine well-timbered park for 
a while, and then made a move for the village of Clovelly, which 
is situated just outside the park. This is quite a unique little 
colony of fishermen’s cottages built on the slope of a declivity, 
fixed by nature at such an obtuse angle, that its one street re- 
sembles a great staircase leading down to a rocky cove, where 


The Old Man Makes A Kick. 


355 

there is a small protected anchorage for a few fishing-boats, with 
a stone jetty for landing purposes. 

Clovelly is a show place, and many of the cottagers sell marine 
curios of all kinds to the tourists who swarm here during the 
summer months ; in fact, we encountered a whole outfit of these 
people as we slowly descended its solitary avenue, entering several 
of the domiciles on the way where the Emperor and Dora pur- 
chased curios in a lavish fashion. The resorters stared at our 
party with the innate vulgarity that is so characteristic of the 
English middle class, as if we were visitors from Mars. That 
they took us for tremendous swells was evident from the audible 
remarks they made. 

We found at the jetty the yacht’s electric launch, and we now 
perceived the “ Dora ” herself about a couple of miles out, await- 
ing for us with banked fires. 

As we approached her we could see what a splendid boat she 
is, with fine lines, yet with plenty of beam and high freeboard. 
As Jim informed us proudly, she has nearly 3,000 tons capacity, 
burns oil exclusively, and her engines are equal to propelling her 
three great turbines with the force of about 15,000 horse-power, 
giving her an extreme speed of thirty knots an hour with natural 
draught, though it would probably never be necessary to travel 
at such a railroad pace. 

When we were on board the first thing to do, naturally, was 
to see round the ship, and we were all amazed at the perfection of 
the arrangements and of the equipment. I have been over many 
fine yachts in my time, but this beats them all hollow. The 
engines were constructed so that they (as obtained in battleships) 
should with the tanks of oil for the furnaces be below the water 
line. Of course the use of oil gives great economy of stowage 
place, as compared with coal, and is far more cleanly to handle. 

^ The staterooms are arranged with a bath-room between each 
pair, so that a suite can be used for a married couple, one of the 
staterooms serving in this case as a dressing-room, or for two 
single ladies, or two bachelors, as the case might be. Each state- 
room is fitted with an aluminum bedstead, and here I may note 
that the ship herself, her engines and all her fixings are made 
of the toughened white metal. 

The space down-stairs between the starboard and port state- 
rooms are divided into three divisions; the one nearest the aft 
companion is fitted up as an extra saloon or lounging room for 


35^ A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

the guests, the second division as a dining-room for the servants, 
and the third as a ward-room for the ship’s officers. In direct 
connection with the guests staterooms are two small but 
thoroughly effective Russian baths, each consisting simply of 
steam, shampooing and cooling-off rooms. I am not aware of any 
other yacht being provided with such luxuries, one steam batli 
being for the use of the ladies, the other for gentlemen. 

Mr. Clark required that both his female as well as his male 
servants should be moderately skilled in the arts of shampooing 
and massage. On deck there is a commodious smoking-room 
aft the stern companion, and facing this, a spacious dining-room 
that opens into a beautiful drawing-room with a small boudoir 
attached. In both the smoking-room as well as the drawing- 
room, are excellent libraries, etc., etc. The furnishing of all 
the rooms is of the most luxurious and complete description. The 
entire ship’s company, including the officers, consists of one hun- 
dred and twenty men, the accommodation for the crew for- 
ward being all that could possibly be desired. The yacht is 
provided with apparatus for wireless telegraphy, and carries four 
three-inch 12. 5 quick-firing guns of the most approved pattern; 
she has three masts, is schooner rigged, and can do her nine 
knots under easy sail. Down below the staterooms are cold 
storage and such like rooms, marvels of forethought and utility, 
and her kitchens and servants’ offices could not be surpassed. 
Everything except the ship’s propulsion is performed by electric 
power. 

When we had completed our inspection we all repaired to the 
dining-room, and drank to the success of the “ Dora ” in bumpers 
of champagne, and then Jim gave orders in half an hour’s time 
to let her go for a short steam as far as Minehead and back, so 
as to give us an opportunity of seeing that part of the coast from 
the sea. 

We then went on deck and separated into groups; the Canon 
and Mr. Candy getting into a warm discussion about some sub- 
ject, possibly theological or sociological ; Dawlish and Annie of 
course pairing off, while Bella and I were soon enjoying the naval 
yarns of Captain Beatson and the first officer. After a time I 
noticed that the old man, Dora and Jim were standing apart 
near the stern engaged in what looked very like a rather hot dis- 
pute. I judged it was hot, as the Emperor appeared considerably 
excited. Dora was evidently trying to soothe him, and Jim 


The Old Man Makes A Kick. 357 

looked sullen and obstinate. As I distinctly occupied the position 
of friend of the family, I thought it my duty to tender my friendly 
offices in order to allay this state of irritation, whatever it might 
be. It was so rarely that the old man was ever put out, and if 
he were so, a word from Dora was sufficient to calm him. So 
leaving Bella chatting and laughing with the naval gentlemen, 
I slowly approached the trio. 

But suddenly reflecting that I might after all be de trop, I was 
about to seat myself in a deck chair and enjoy my cigar till the 
clouds had rolled by, when Dora, perceiving me, cried : 

“ Here’s the Judge, let him decide. What a thing it is to have 
a great legal luminary to appeal to! Please come here. Judge, 
and apply your trained intelligence towards solving a knotty point 
for us, or Daddy will work himself into a fit.” 

Thus adjured, I arose and sauntered up to the disputants. 

“ Here, Judge,” said the old man, pointing to the mizzen-mast, 
“ do you see that flag up there at the peak? What nationality 
does it represent ? ” 

I raised my eyes and noticed what I hadn’t done before, a 
plain blue ensign with a Union Jack in the left-hand upper 
corner. 

“ I believe that is the flag of the British Royal Naval Reserve, 
sir, though perhaps I am mistaken,” I replied. 

“ No you are not,” replied the Emperor, “ you are damned well 
right. Now, Judge, here’s my son, a full-blooded American, fly- 
ing a British ensign, isn’t it too bad? I have nothing to say 
against the British flag as a flag. I know the British and we 
are very good friends and, as I trust, hand in glove with each 
other. But don’t you consider it going a trifle too far for an 
American citizen to fly any other ensign but ‘ Old Glory ’ ? Why 
doesn’t my son go and apply for his papers of naturalization at 
once? That is what he should do if he wishes to be honest.” 

It was my office to pour oil on the troubled waters, but I had 
to exercise considerable diplomacy in doing so. I replied: 

“ Perhaps it is some mistake, sir, which can easily be rectified.” 

“ It’s no damned mistake at all,” replied the old man, “ or it’s 
a mistake done on purpose.” 

“ Dear Daddy, don’t excite yourself,” said Dora, kissing the 
old man affectionately, “it will be all right, perhaps Jim will 
take it down and hoist the Stars and Stripes.” 


358 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

For once Dora’s winsomeness failed to make its wonted im- 
pression on her father-in-law, who replied : 

“ No he won’t. I know my son if any one does, and he is as 
obstinate as a Texas mule.” 

I was afraid there would be a serious quarrel, as I could see 
Jim was in a kicking mood, but something must be done, so I 
proceeded to examine the defendant to see what reasons he had 
for what I confess seemed an extraordinary break on his part, 
so I said: 

“ Surely, Jim, you must have some very strong motive for 
hoisting this flag. What is it, old man ? ” 

“ I was trying to explain to the Governor, but he wouldn’t 
listen to me,” replied Jim. ” The fact is, Judge, this boat, as you 
know, was built on the Clyde, and darned well built too; she is 
one of the finest steam yachts afloat. Well, I had to get a British 
crew and a complement of British officers, for the simple reason 
that I couldn’t obtain a thoroughly efficient ship’s company in 
the States for love or money, because Uncle Sam has so greatly 
increased his Navy that every man is snapped up who is good 
for anything. In fact, our fleet is notoriously undermanned as 
it is. There are no finer seamen or engineers than we have got 
on the other side, but there are too few of them. There is not 
sufficient inducement for men to enlist in the navy, they can do 
better ashore. What was I to do? I had the choice of either 
manning my ship with a lot of inefficient mutinous mongrels who 
call themselves Americans, or have one of the finest ship’s com- 
pany in the world composed of Britishers. Captain Beattie got 
the crew together for me; they are largely composed of Naval 
Reserve men, the officers are all of this class. Now these men 
owe their allegiance to this country. Do you think I could ask 
them, especially the officers, to sail under a foreign flag, even if 
that flag belongs to a friendly country? That’s my difficulty. 
Judge, now let’s have your opinion.” 

I was struck with Jim’s forcible arguments for a moment, then 
is occurred :o me (and my surmise proved to be a correct one) 
that he had been coached by his wife ; he obviously had learned 
the words by heart, as he spoke in a kind of monotone, but I saw 
that the old man was floored, so my work was an easy one. 

“ Bravo, Jim,” said “ we shall have to run you as President, 
you are quite an orator.” 

As I said this, I could see a humorous twinkle in Dora’s eye, 


The Old Man Makes A Kick. 


359 

and she gave Jim an approving nod like as a schoolmarm might 
do to a pupil who has made a correct answer (which she has 
driven into his thick head previously) to a viva voce question 
asked by a visiting examiner. 

“ You see, sir,” said I, turning to the Emperor, that Jim has 
put in a very strong plea. Now don’t you think he has? ” 

The old man was spared the mortification of confesssing him- 
self in the wrong, by the butler coming up and presenting a tele- 
gram to him that had just been brought aboard. The old man 
opened the envelope, and having scanned its contents said : 

“ Hully Gee! The Rector of Trinity is coming, he will be 
here in time for dinner. Well that’s good news. I am glad.” 
And so were we all, and in talking of the said good news, the 
cloud was soon removed from the old man’s face. He was evi- 
dently glad of an excuse to retire gracefully from the fray, and 
this message came just in the nick of time. So he kissed Dora, 
and it was a united family once more. 

“ Where are the cars encamped, Mr. Clark?” said I. 

“ On a piece of spare ground near the Torridge about four 
miles above Bideford,” replied he. “ Our arrangements are that 
we steam in this yacht to the Scilly Islands to-morrow, and on 
Friday we are to have a run at full speed to Milford Haven, 
returning to Lundy the same day in time to get on the cars and 
make tracks for New Quay, where we shall sleep on board the 
yacht. New Quay is, I am told, the prettiest seaside resort on 
the coast of Cornwall and we shall stay over Sunday there.” 

“Won’t that be jolly!” said Dora, who was radiant with 
pleasure at the happy termination of the scrap. 

Jim summoned the third officer and told him to have the elec- 
tric launch in readiness to go ashore, when the “ Dora ” was 
abreast of Northam on her return journey from Minehead, Jim 
saying that he and Dawlish would go and meet the Rector at the 
Bideford railway depot, the Emperor having previously given 
orders for the auto coach to be in readiness continually at 
Northam to meet any such emergency. 

On the completion of our miniature cruise, during which we 
were greatly pleased with the fine scenery and with the delight- 
ful easy motion of the yacht, we slowed down at the appointed 
place, and Jim and Dawlish put off in the launch, and in what 
seemed quite a short time returned with our Rector and his bag- 
gage. The worthy ecclesiastic was received with unfeigned 


360 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

cordiality and affection by us all. His face is tanned, but he is 
in rude health and boisterously cheerful at seeing us all again, 
especially Dora, for whom he entertains feelings almost amount- 
ing to adoration. 

We then steamed at quick gait to Lundy safety harbor, 
which contained warships and merchantmen, and the “ Dora ” took 
up her moorings near the armored battleship cruiser “ York- 
shire,” who with her consorts, a first-class protected cruiser, two 
second-class cruisers, four torpedo boat destroyers and a torpedo 
ram, a sort of improved “ Polyphemus,” had recently been de- 
tached from the British home defence squadron on special service. 

Captain Beattie informed me that the old Channel Squadron 
was now considered an integral portion of the Mediterranean 
fleet, which consists of twenty first-class battleships besides 
cruisers, etc., while an additional home defence squadron is kept 
permanently in commission, and is made up of eight first-class 
battleships, two battleship cruisers, two armored cruisers and a 
strong complement of smaller vessels, torpedo boat destroyers 
and two torpedo rams. The Mediterranean fleet is provided with 
four of these rams, and each battleship has with her a submarine 
torpedo boat as an additional protection. 

I take a great deal of interest in naval matters, and these bat- 
tleship cruisers seem pretty slick sort of affairs, being armed with 
four 9.2 guns in barbettes fore and aft, as well as eight 7.5 quick- 
firers in pairs in turrets, besides a number of 12.5 smaller quick- 
firers, and these ships are adequately protected with armor and 
can steam at twenty-three knots an hour. Battleships are being 
constructed of and protected with hardened aluminum and will 
be nearly invulnerable. 

What a fine safety harbor Lundy is. This and the one at 
Filey, Yorkshire, were both completed a few years ago, and 
why they were not made before is a disgrace to the British gov- 
ernment. Tens of millions of property and hundreds of lives 
would have been saved, but it is as hard to get a government to 
move as it is a Texas mule. 

The officers of the British Squadron had left their cards on 
the “ Dora,” and Jim had invited them to a banquet to-night as a 
sort of ship- warming, and a very jolly party we had, you bet, and 
we sent the Britishers away in great shape, loaded to the tops 
of their throats with the Emperor’s champagne. 


The Hidden Stenographer. 


361 


CHAPTER XII. ' 

THE HIDDEN STENOGRAPHER. 

July 7, Thursday. 

In spite of the lateness, or rather earliness of the hour at which 
our party broke up, and of the long golfing spell I had gone 
through, and also in spite of the tempting luxuriousness of our 
bed (by our I mean, of course, my wife and I), I felt refreshed 
and ready to rise by 5 a. m. Long practice had enabled me to 
leave my couch without disturbing Bella, and I was soon on deck 
sniffing in what sea breeze there was, which didn’t amount to 
much. Some of the crew were engaged in cleaning the decks, 
or in making a pretense at doing so, for it was difficult to see 
how they could be more immaculate than they were before. I 
lit a pipe and leaned on the bulwarks watching the distant coast 
of Devonshire. That little cruise of the previous evening had 
been a perfect revelation to me, and I now realized that the pard- 
onable boast that Dawlish had often made in respect to the beauty 
of his native county had been no empty bluff. It is only those 
who have actually visited (not merely read about) the northern 
seacoast of Devonshire and Cornwall, who can adequately rea- 
lize the exquisite beauty of the pictures it presents to the eye of a 
true lover of nature. What pen can do more than faintly describe 
its deep wooded coombes, the varied tints of its rugged upland 
moors, the massive boldness of its granite cliffs, alternating with 
secluded nooks and quiet coves carpeted with yellow sand. Its 
glorious breadths of fertile pasture land, its magnificent fore- 
ground of restless ocean, terrible when roused by a fierce sou’- 
wester, that hurls rank after rank of foaming mountainous billows 
against the weather-beaten shore, but when in a gracious mood, 
gentle and limpid, decked with innocent harmless wavelets which 
ripple like mirth-provoking smiles o’er Father Neptune’s broad 
and vacant face, and sparkle in the proud, loving glances of all- 
bounteous sun, as they seem to kiss with showers of glittering 


362 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

spray the time-worn variegated rocks that have been wrought 
into thousand fantastic shapes by the battering surge of myriads 
of ages. But sometimes as on this lovely summer morning, the 
word restless would seem barely applicable to the said ocean. 
For the surface of the surrounding water was as smooth and un- 
ruffled as a lake of oil, indicative of the profoundest calm, but it 
was a calm that may be compared to the fallacious and fitful rest 
of a sleeping tiger. A light golden haze seemed to enshroud both 
sea and land, like the delicate lace veil that envelopes a blushing 
bride and half conceals her charms at the nuptial ceremony. 

Between myself and my pen I guess that this is a pretty smart 
bit of description of a scenery of which I have as yet caught 
only some passing glimpses. I must indeed have imbibed some 
of my friend Dawlish’s Devonian enthusiasm, and certainly have 
profited by what he has told me, but apart from this I really be- 
lieve, in spite of the deadening effect of my extremely prosaic 
profession, that I possess in my inmost soul a bright flamelet of 
the divine afflatus of poetry. Wouldn’t Bella laugh at me if I 
made such a' confession in her presence ? I know she thinks great 
shakes of me as a smart man of business, but as for my being 
a poet, I don’t suppose that such an essentially wild idea ever 
entered her pretty head. 

Well, I lighted my second pipe (I always hold by the way that 
a man who can’t enjoy his baccy before breakfast isn’t worth 
thirty cents), the men had finished swabbing the decks. Captain 
Beattie was on the bridge giving his directions for weighing 
anchor, and by the vapor issuing from the scape pipes, I could 
see that we were getting up steam previous to sliding out. It 
then occurred to me that the idle minutes might be well employed 
in writing up my diary, so I betook myself to the smoking-room, 
which like as in ocean liners is, as I have said, aft the companion. 
I seated myself at a table close to an open porthole window, and 
wrote steadily for half an hour. I then got up in order to stretch 
myself and to take a casual inspection of the apartment which is 
fitted up in a most luxurious and comfortable fashion, and in 
doing so I perceived that the deck was not now untenanted, for 
on looking through the window I perceived the graceful figure of 
the fair Annie Leighton. She was dressed very simply but pret- 
tily in a tailor-made costume of pure white linen and a pale blue 
silk vest, in her left hand she held an open book, and was gazing 
steadfastly at the coast of Devon, but every now and then, coyly 


The Hidden Stenographer. 363 

cast a glance in the direction of the companion, as if she expected 
some one. It did not take a wiseacre to predict who the expected 
one might be, and as I did not wish to spoil a tcte-d-tete I reseated 
myself, and continued my self-imposed task. We were now un- 
der way, and I felt the smooth rhythmic motion of the great tur- 
bines as they slowly revolved I say slowly, as I knew that we 
should only creep along until our party were assembled on deck, 
in order not to miss seeing any of the delightful coast scenery. I 
soon took a peep out of the window again. Annie was still stand- 
ing in the same attitude ; she had laid the open book on the bul- 
wark, but her glances at the companion were more frequent than 
before. We had by this time cleared the safety harbor and had 
turned to the southwest, and were abreast of Lundy and edging 
in towards the coast, which was about ten miles distant. We had 
opened up Hartland Point, but we hardly seemed moving, and 
had very little way on, the slight mist had lifted, and we were 
evidently in for a real brilliant day. Just then I heard the sounds 
of some one ascending the companion. There was no mistaking 
those footfalls, they were those of an athlete bounding up three 
steps at a time, and there was only one man on board who pro- 
gressed by leaps and bounds in that fashion, and in another in- 
stant the tall form of the Emperor’s secretary, clad in white 
flannel, stood beside Annie, straw hat in hand, as he greeted the 
young lady. I bobbed down again, and at first was prompted by 
gentlemanly feeling to retire out of earshot, but the temptation 
for once, and only once, to do a bit of what I might sophistically 
call unavoidable eavesdropping was too strong, and I remained 
rather shamefacedly in my chair. To tell the truth I am a per- 
son who delights in studying all the phases of human nature, and 
never had inadvertently heard a man confessing his love. I am 
aware that I performed my own proposal in an awkward fashion, 
and I wished to hear how the debonair Captain would play his 
role. So I prepared to take down the conversation in shorthand, 
of which science I am a proficient. I would have laid the odds 
of five to one, that so good a strategist as Dawlish would not 
lose so golden an opportunity, which almost seemed as if it had 
been specially prepared for him, but I should have recollected 
that a mature man in the thirties hasn’t half the sand in regard 
to proposing that a lad of two-and-twenty has, and so the sequel 
proved. There’s many a bronzed, stalwart warrior like our gal- 
lant Captain who would lead a forlorn hope, or face unflinchingly 


364 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

the charge of a wounded Bengal tiger, who feels his courage ooze 
out when it comes to saying a few decisive words to the girl of 
his choice, who is blushingly eager to welcome them. 

“ Good morning. Captain Dawlish,” I heard Miss Leighton say. 
“ We are apparently the only two of our crowd who are early 
risers. I suppose the Judge was wearied by his exertions yester- 
day.” (Little did she know that the said Judge was concealed 
from view, quickly jotting down in Pitman’s hieroglyphics her 
very words.) “But to tell the truth,” she continued, “ your 
arrival is most opportune. You are a Devonshire man and of 
course know everything about your native county. You needn’t 
ask (I know you were going to do so) what that book lying there 
is. Of course it is Charles Kingsley’s ‘ Westward Ho,’ one 
couldn’t possibly be reading any other at the present moment. 
Can you point out to me the Shutter rock near Lundy, on which 
the Spanish galleon, the ‘ Santa Catharina,’ was lost, or supposed 
to be lost, with all hands, and on which her pursuer, the ‘ Venge- 
ance,’ was so nearly cast away ? ” 

“ Thousands have doubtless asked the same question. Miss 
Leighton,” replied the gallant Captain, “ but I fear that the 
Shutter rock was but a figment of Kingsley’s brilliant imagina- 
tion, as not a trace of it remains now; still that high cliff out 
there is always pointed out to tourists as the one on whose brink 
the blind giant went to sleep, and dreamed he saw the Spanish 
galleon once more. ‘ She had righted in fifteen fathoms, and in 
his dream he looked down through the oar weed and saw his 
old enemy, Don Guzman, drinking wine with his officers in his 
cabin, and the Don rose and bowed to him, and said, “ Senor, we 
have had a fair quarrel. Let us make it up,” and Sir Amyas 
Leigh awoke a changed man.’ I can’t remember the exact words 
of the passage I have quoted, but written in Kingsley’s nervous 
and simple English, I think it forms one of the most pathetic 
episodes in any work, and I never can read it without a big lump 
rising in my throat, and my eyes somehow getting very dim, and 
I am glad at such times to be alone, as it does not look good for a 
man to be seen crying over a piece of fiction.” 

“ I don’t know so much about that,’ replied Annie, “ and I like 
you all the better, Captain Dawlish, for having a soft place in 
your heart,” and then she stopped short, ashamed no doubt at 
having made what she thought was a serious break. She had 
unpremeditatively given her lover an opening which he cursed 


The Hidden Stenographer. 365 

himself afterwards for not seizing hold of. How easy would 
it have been for him to have taken her hand in his and to have 
murmured, “ What you have said, Miss Leighton, ‘ Annie,’ is 
too true, I have a soft place in my heart for you and you only,” 
etc., etc., but he apparently hadn’t the nerve, and let the golden 
opportunity slip, but what he did say was this : 

“ I don’t see why it should be considered manly for a fellow 
to have a hard heart. Miss Leighton. We men have our feel- 
ings as well as you ladies.” 

“ Oh, yes,” laughed Annie, who had by this time recovered her 
wonted self-possession. “ I quite admit that some men are more 
susceptible than others, and some are professional flirts with no 
real feelings at all. A male flirt in my estimation is a very con- 
temptible object.” Poor Annie spoke out of the bitterness of 
her own heart, having (so Mrs. Clark had informed me) wasted 
a good deal of her time at Canterbury philandering with those 
desperate lady-killers, British cavalry officers. But she suddenly 
realized that the was skating on very thin ice, and that her com- 
panion might take her pointed diatribe against male flirting to 
himself. So she discreetly changed the subject by exclaiming: 

“ But to return to what we were talking about. You seem 
to know ‘ Westward Ho ’ as well as I do.” 

A Devonshire man. Miss Leighton, should surely be as well 
posted in the works of an author who is the pride and glory of 
his native county, at least as well as a Kentish lady,” replied 
Dawlish. 

“ There is a decided touch of sarcasm in your remark,” replied 
Annie, “ but barring chaff, what a magician a great novelist is, 
what a fascinating interest he invests scenes and places with in 
which his dramatis personae live, move, and have their being. 
How few really fine situations, accompanied by graphic writing, 
occur in the common or garden works of fiction. A novelist 
should not only write ably, but should be a good deal of a poet 
and still more of a dramatist. To return for a moment to ‘West- 
ward Ho,’ could anything be finer than that passage in which 
Admiral Leigh, standing on the poop of the ‘ Vengeance,’ wit- 
nesses the destruction of the Spanish galleon, and conceives that 
he had been robbed of his lawful prey, and with an imprecation 
against the justness of Providence, hurls into the sea the sword 
which he has been industriously sharpening day after day, to fit 
it for its destiny of slaying his enemy. I almost seem to see thq 


366 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

whole episode as it happened over there,” pointing, I suppose (for 
I could not see her), in the direction of Lundy. 

“ You have a vivid imagination. Miss Leighton,” replied the 
Captain, “ and a very romantic nature, at least for one who is not 
a native of my dear county. We Devonians indulge in the be- 
lief that we have created a corner in romance. Exmoor and 
Dartmoor literally reek with it.” 

“ And consequently,” replied Annie, “ you regard the rest of 
the world as dull and prosaic. Yet even my stupid (as you 
regard it) old county of Kent can show in its long and eventful 
annals plenty of thrilling incidents. Indeed, there is more real 
(not fictitious as yours is) romance crammed into our city and 
cathedral of Canterbury, let alone Rochester, Dover, Deal, Sand- 
wich and other notable places, than is comprised in all the fairy 
tales that pass current as authentic records in the whole county 
of Devon.” 

Before the Captain could replv, the tete-d-tete was interrupted 
by the arrival of a third party who said (I could tell by the voice 
that it was Dora’s) : 

“ Good morning, you two inseparables, it is the early bird that 
gathers the worm.” 

“ Do you liken me to a worm, Dora ? ” said Annie. 

“ If I do Captain Dawlish is the bird, and I hope not a bird of 
prey,” observed Dora significantly. 

“ I pray not,” said Dawlish, laughing. 

“ I forgive the pun and echo the prayer,” said Dora, “ but 
seriously, what was the subject that engrossed your attention just 
as I appeared. You both seemed so excited I feared you were 
going to have a scrap.” 

“ Miss Leighton said we Devonians have no romance in our 
natures, and that Canterbury is chock full of it,” said the Captain. 

‘‘ Oh, what a story. Captain ! You know it was quite the re- 
verse,” cried Annie. 

“ I cannot pretend to decide which of you is speaking the truth, 
all I know is that there is enough romance on board this ship 
either to sink, blow her up, or turn her into a Flying Dutchman, 
if a steamer could ever by some supernatural means become so 
strange a craft, but you people must not delude yourselves with 
the notion that you two are the only pebbles on the beach, for 
here comes my lord and master ; he has been up ever since four 
o’clock in the engine room; and is as excited about his yacht 


The Hidden Stenographer. 367 

as much as a child would be over a new toy. By the way, I 
wonder that we have not seen the Judge. I hope he has not given 
up his diary keeping, it would indeed be a pity for the sake of 
future generations if this modern Pepys were to go out of 
business.” 

I was just considering the advisability of joining the increas- 
ing crowd on deck, the more so as I knew that directly Bella 
made her appearance she would be searching for me, and not 
seeing me would suppose that her steadfast spouse had fallen 
overboard and proceed to hunt me up, when I heard Jim’s voice 
saying: “The top of the morning to you. Captain and Annie. 
By the way, I have mislaid my pipe, I must have left it in the 
Smoker.” With that I heard Jim advancing in the direction of 
my hiding place, and I had just time to fling myself back in 
my chair and sham being asleep, when Jim entered, and seeing 
me shouted : “ Why, land sakes ! here’s the Judge taking a nap 
too, by the holy ! Let us see what he has written,” and he coolly 
turned over my shorthand notes, and ejaculated: “Why, he’s 
writing in Chinese or Choctaw, as I am a living sinner. What 
a learned man he is. Come rouse up. Judge, it’s about breakfast 
time.” 

I pretended to wake, yawned and stretched myself, and then 
in as natural a way as possible, looking at my watch, said, “ Why 
Heavens! I have been dozing for over an hour and a half” (a 
white lie I maintain is an absolute necessity in some cases in 
spite of what purists may say, if society is to hold together). 
Jim soon found his pipe and having loaded and lit it, and I having 
followed his example, we betook our noble selves into the open 
air. The group in the meantime had been swelled by the addition 
of Bella and the old man. 

“ I say. Judge,” said Dora, “ you will kill yourself with over 
work. I wonder you can let him apply himself so, Bella dear.” 

“ He says that he has been asleep for an hour and a half 
in a chair in the Smoker,” said Jim, laughing merrily, “ and yet 
I found a whole pile of notes in Choctaw, or some heathen lan- 
guage. See, here they are, Dawlish,” observed the inexorable 
Jim, handing, as he spoke, my notes to the Captain who (he is an 
expert in shorthand) glanced down a page, and apparently having 
satisfied himself, handed them to me with a smile and said, “ I 
hope the witnesses did not incriminate themselves. Judge,” look- 


368 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

ing mischievously at Annie, who gave me an imploring look 
from her big eyes. 

Then I received, metaphorically speaking, a shot between wind 
and water from the lips of my wife, who said, laughing, “ How 
can you have slept an hour and a half in the Smoker, Uriah? 
You haven’t been up so long.” 

This was a most damning piece of evidence and fairly wrecked 
my case. 

Just then a diversion was created by the old man exclaiming: 
“ Good morning. Captain Beattie, when shall we get to the 
Scillies to-day ? ” 

The ship’s captain, who had just joined the party, replied : 
“ Well, sir, about midday, or one o’clock at the latest. I have 
instructions from your son not to hurry along, which is just as 
well, as the coast scenery is fine right to the Land’s End.” 

“ Oh, here come the two pillars of the church, arm in arm,” 
said Dora. “ My dear Rector, I hadn’t an opportunity of really 
having a chat with you last night, the captain of the ‘ Yorkshire ’ 
would insist on engaging my attention all the time.” 

It was very selfish of him, but he never engaged a fairer 
enemy,” replied the Rector, gallantly. 

“ Good for you, Rector, always the preux chevalier I see, but 
you must give me an account of your European tour. What did 
you do ? Where did you go to ? Whom did you see ? And how 
many ladies did you mash ? ” 

“ My dear Mrs. Clark, you cannot tell how rejoiced I am to 
be with you all again,” replied the Rector. “ Switzerland, the 
Tyrol and the Rhine are very charming in their way, but the 
great drawback is that one is pitchforked from one big hotel to 
the next, and from one crowd of more or less vulgar English 
and American tourists to another; they literally swarm in these 
European resorts like flies round beer and honey traps, and are 
continually thrusting their frequently offensive personalities down 
one’s throat. About fifty self-styled New Yorkers claimed 
acquaintance with me, many of them, judging by their names and 
appearances, were German Jews. Now I strive to love my fellow- 
men, but to love all our fellow men all the time and in all places 
is a pretty steep proposition, and requires a robuster faith in the 
ultimate destination of the species than certainly I can ever pre- 
tend to possess. I enjoyed that electric railway and elevator 
journey to the summit of the Yungfrau and the transient peeps I 


The Hidden Stenographer. 369 

obtained of Cologne, Antwerp and the Hague. The Rhine, how- 
ever, is not a patch on the Hudson, but the banks of the latter 
might be improved and decorated by the addition of a few ruined 
castles and a Lorelei or two. We Yankees sometimes amuse 
ourselves by abusing England, but we are all of us jolly glad 
to get back to the old country, where one can speak one’s own lan- 
guage, eat wholesome food and be among folk who observe the 
niceties and decencies of life. How can one be cozy and com- 
fortable in Germany when most of the inhabitants seem at meals 
to be trying how far they can push their knives down their throats 
without incurring fatal results?” 

“ I’m blessed. Rector,” said Dawlish, “ if you Americans are 
not just as faddy and insular as we Britishers when you get down 
to the bed rock.” 

“ I quite agree with the Rector,” said the Canon, “ and after 
all there’s no place like home, especially when that home happens 
to be that right little, tight little island yonder.” 

“ Well, ladies and gentlemen,” said Jim Clark, “ I guess that 
we have talked enough and imbibed sufficient sea air to set a fine 
edge on our appetites. I judge of yours by mine, and I see the 
butler (I suppose I ought to call him steward on board ship) com- 
ing to announce that breakfast is awaiting us. So I guess that I 
will move an adjournment.” 

“ Seconded nem. con., most noble senor,” said I, and we ad- 
journed. 

Whether it was owing to the atmospheric conditions, the com- 
paratively early hour, the cheerful company, or to all three in- 
fluences combined, I know not, but one thing is certain, each of 
our pilgrims made an astonishingly hearty breakfast. The serv- 
ants were kept busy in bringing relays of tempting comestibles. 
In regard to the amount of provender consumed, Jim Clark 
' unquestionably took first prize, with the Canon and Captain Dawl- 
ish about a dead heat for second place. Dora played such an 
excellent knife and fork herself that she felt ashamed to chaff 
her liege lord on his gargantuan capacity for food. 

“ You must have a good conscience, Jim,” said I, as we were 
regaining the deck. 

“ Why, Judge? ” replied the owner of the yacht. 

“ Because you can eat so well. A man with such a champion 
appetite cannot have many crimes or unrepented sins to mourn 

25 


370 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

over. You are probably the most favored individual on this sec- 
ond-class planet of ours.” 

“How so?” replied Jim, inquiringly. 

“ Why, you have a most beautiful and charming wife, enor- 
mous wealth, a sufficiency of brains, and last, but not least, a 
splendid constitution, with an incomparable digestion. What 
more can any man want to complete his earthly bliss ? ” 

“ I have indeed very much to be thankful for,” replied Jim, 
“ but you have omitted one great stroke of fortune.” 

“ What is that, Jim? ” I replied. 

“ That I possess such a firm friend and sound adviser in you, 
Judge, and that Dora is similarly blessed in your dear wife,” re- 
plied the ex-cowboy, feelingly. 

“ Real friends are as scarce as pigeon blood rubies. You may 
always rely on me, Jim, at any rate,” said I, “ and as for Bella, 
she (as the saying is) literally worships the ground your wife 
treads on.” 

We two men, who had been strolling along the deck by our- 
selves and conversing in a low tone, silently gripped hands and 
rejoined the others. There is often a world of purpose in the 
strong, quiet handshake of two earnest men. Can the same be 
said in a parallel sense so truly of the mutual embraces of two 
women friends? Are they not too often mere Judas kisses? 

As Jim and I now approached the other males of the party, 
who had made themselves comfortable in deck chairs and were 
enjoying the scenic effects of the rugged coast we were passing, 
the Rector was lighting a cigar and cried out : “ I say, Mr. 
Slocum, come here and arbitrate ; the Captain and the Canon have 
nearly come to blows over a very trivial subject. The latter has 
just said dogmatically that Devonshire and Cornish creams are 
one and the same thing, and what is your opinion ? Mine is that 
they are exactly similar, being merely scalded cream.” 

“ With all due deference to the Canon, he is wrong,” said 
Dawlish. “ The pure air and water and excellent pasture of 
Devonshire, as well as skill in handling, has a lot to do with 
it.” 

“ I never tasted finer scalded cream than I did this morning 
at breakfast, and it was made by French cooks who have never 
lived in Devonshire, so where does your theory come in ? ” said 
the Canon, triumphantly. 

“ Without professing to be an authority on this particular ques- 


The Hidden Stenographer. 371 

tion, it seems to me that the Canon's contention is a victory of 
common sense over local prejudice," said I, judicially. 

Just then the ladies emerged from the companion and joined 
the gentlemen. 

“ Isn’t this quite too too," cried Dora. “ What lovely weather, 
not too hot and with a delicious breeze, a sparkling sea, grand 
scenery and a charming company. I wouldn’t change places with 
an empress," and she threw herself into a rocker. 

“ But there are empresses who would gladly change situations 
with you, Dora," said my wife. 

“ And emperors who would be very willing to take Mr. James 
Clark’s place," said the Rector gallantly. 

“Do you see that ruin over there?" said Dawlish. “That is 
Tintagel. Isn’t it picturesquely situated, perched on that pre- 
cipitous crag? The castle is supposed to be of fabulous antiquity, 
in fact there is a local tradition to the effect that it was one of the 
strongholds of King Arthur, and this seems possible, as it is gen- 
erally accepted that at Camelford, which is only ten miles distant 
from Tintagel, was the royal residence of that monarch, and 
there it is supposed he held his court, and presided over the 
tournaments of the knights of his round table." 

“ All this sounds very plausible," said the Canon, “ and would 
seem to be fairly convincing, if we had real proof of King Ar- 
thur’s ever having had any other but a legendary existence. There 
seems to have arisen some time in the fifth century a very power- 
ful chieftain who was made Pendragon, or commander-in-chief, 
of the British tribes for the purpose of resisting the Saxon in- 
vaders, and it seems that this Pendragon, whom some have tried 
to identify as the legendary Arthur, achieved some successes 
against the heathen and delayed the conquest of the southern and 
v/estern portions of the island for a considerable period, but in 
the absence of trustworthy records everything has been left to 
conjecture, and I fear that King Arthur and his knights will 
never rise to the dignity of historical personages, but remain 
the exclusive property of romance writers and of poets." 

“It is really quite shocking. Canon, the ruthless manner with 
which you root up the goodly trees of our established beliefs," 
said Bella. 

“ The study of history is yearly becoming more of an exact 
science," said the Rector. “ No information is accepted second 
hand. Searchers after truth are more painstaking and critical 


372 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

than they used to be. There is a spirit of healthy skepticism 
abroad, the deadly enemy of ignorance, superstition, intolerance 
and cruelty. People are no longer molested on account of differ- 
ences in religious belief, since it is admitted that where there’s 
faith there must also be doubt. If a thing is certain there would 
be no necessity for faith and no credit in believing. In history 
the legendary and the mythical are being rapidly separated by 
broad, deep lines from the strictly authentic. 

“ Few people nowadays,” said the Canon, “ would ever trouble 
their heads about King Arthur and his knights if Tennyson (who 
is one of the few poets read nowadays) had not invested them 
with an air of reality in his ‘ Idylls of the King.’ ” 

“ It is curious,” remarked I, ” how Tennyson in the ‘ Idylls ’ in- 
troduced the manners and customs of the thirteenth and four- 
teenth centuries. It is singular to read of Romanized Kelts 
indulging in tournaments, wearing plate armor and antedating 
the age of chivalry.” 

” A good deal of latitude must be given to poets,” said the 
Rector. “We must never forget that Shakespeare himself made 
some awful breaks. Why, in ‘ Julius Caesar ’ and ‘ Coriolanus ’ 
occur such extraordinary solecisms as clocks striking and cannon 
firing.” 

“ I will let you learned people argue about these abstruse 
points,” said Bella, “ but I confess I would like to know where 
Lyonnesse, a province of Arthur’s kingdom, was situated. I was 
always led to suppose that it has since been submerged; in fact 
my governess used to tell me that the Scilly Islands in those days 
formed part of the mainland.” 

“ Perhaps,” said Dora, “ it was on the shores of this lost tract 
that was fought the great battle in the west where Arthur warred 
against the traitor Modred and the heathen knights, and where, 
too, was the Isle of Avallon, where the spotless king was taken 
to cure him of his grievous wound.” 

“ All these,” said the Rector, smiling at the enthusiasm of the 
two ladies, “ are the beautiful creations of poetic fancy, and have 
no foundation at all in fact. From the rocky formation of the 
coast, it is impossible that any such great submergence can have 
occurred within at least 20,000 years, and it is clear also that the 
Scillies never formed part of the mainland within historical times, 
as they were as they are now, and were known to the Phoenicians 
^who unquestionably worked tin mines in Cornwall) a thousand 


The Hidden Stenographer. 373 

years before King Arthur’s time under the name of the Cassi- 
terrides.” 

“ I must say,” said the Canon, “ I agree entirely with my rev- 
erend brother, and after all the Arthurian legends are not more 
improbable than the tales of Cornish giants and the miracles of 
Cornish saints. They all have a foundation of truth on which 
story by story has been built a superstructure of lies and im- 
possibilities.” 

“ You are right there, Canon,” said Dawlish, with all a Devon 
man’s jealousy of Cornwall. “ I believe as little in Cornish saints 
as Cornish giants ; at any rate the former did not leave the impress 
of their sanctity on the manners and morals of the inhabitants. 
Their (the saints) names, which somehow got attached to almost 
all Cornish villages, are the only relics we have of these holy men. 
Up to the close of the eighteenth century the Cornish were about 
the toughest lot of people anywhere. They were hereditary 
miners and wreckers too ; murder and pillage were their hobbies. 
It is difficult to conceive greater fiends in human shape than men 
who, by lighting false beacons, deliberately enticed ships on to 
the rocks for the purpose of making spoil of their cargoes, and of 
the effects of their passengers. They were even known to cut 
off the fingers of women to get their rings and to dash the brains 
out of the heads of half-drowned wretches who were struggling 
to reach the shore, in order that there should be no witnesses of 
their misdeeds. Clergymen on Sunday were also known to stop 
divine service and hurry down with the parishioners to the sea- 
shore on the news being brought to the churches that there was a 
vessel on the rocks. The parson on these occasions always put 
in an appearance in order to claim his tithe of the harvest of the 
sea. Of course those days are long gone by and their black deeds 
are buried in oblivion. I only refer to them to show that those 
things happened in the land of saints.” 

“ I guess I don’t take much stock anyhow in these saints,” said 
Jim. “ From what Dora has told me of them, they were mostly 
dirty beggars who thought it holy not to wash, and were watching 
out all the time for the best way of saving their own miserable 
souls.” 

The Emperor had been amusing himself by watching the coast 
through a fine telescope fixed on a tripod. The subjects of the 
conversation just related were mostly gibberish to him, and he 
now exclaimed : 


374 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

“ I should think all this jaw has made you people thirsty. Have 
you got any draught Bass ale or Scotch whisky and soda on 
board ? Which is it to be, Beatson ? ” said he, addressing the cap- 
tain of the yacht, who had just come up. 

“ You bet there’s lots of Bass, as well as Scotch, Daddy,” re- 
plied Jim, touching an electric bell. “ What do you say you will 
take, Beattie ? ” 

“ A little of my native dew and potash water, thank you,” re- 
plied the Scotchman. “ The yacht is doing twenty knots now, 
and shall quicken to twenty-three soon. Doesn’t she run 
smoothly? You ought to be proud of owning such a crack boat, 
Mr. Clark.” 

“ You bet I am,” replied Jim. 

“ And I am proud, too, of having such a charming namesake,” 
said Dora enthusiastically. 

When the drinks were brought, old man Clark emptied a 
tankard of ale at a draught, and said, “ Now, that is just what 
I needed. I wonder people will continue to injure themselves by 
drinking those abominable steam and lager beers, made not with 
good malt and hops, like this delicious ale, but manufactured with 
glucose and most injurious acids which rot the stomach and pro- 
duce Bright’s disease. I would hang all dishonest scoundrels 
who murder people for filthy lucre.” 

We all agreed with the old man and the conversation drifted 
into various economic and social channels. Then Dora proposed 
deck quoits, and after a game or two of that, a little raft was 
towed astern, on which was a kind of gallows, from which sev- 
eral empty quart bottles were suspended, and pistol and rifle 
shooting contests were started. As was expected, Jim Clark 
proved victorious, but to every one’s surprise the Rector was an 
extremely good second, beating even old man Clark, to the lat- 
ter’s disgust. It oozed out that the Rector in his youth had been 
a famous hunter and a dead shot with rifle and revolver. 

The steamer passed close to the Land’s End, and the splendid 
rock scenery was much admired. 

The luncheon bell was ringing as the “ Dora ” was preparing 
to drop her anchor off St. Mary’s, the principal island of the 
Scillies. 

The Scilly Islands are well worth a visit, and it is surprising, 
considering their attractions, that they are not more patronized 
by visitors. The climate is very mild and salubrious, owing to the. 


375 


The Hidden Stenographer. 

close proximity of the gulf stream. Frost is practically unknown, 
and so is also great heat; the air is generally soft, yet bracing. 
St. Mary’s is the only island on which there is accommodation 
for visitors, and that is confined to two small, very much countri- 
fied hotels, all the supplies of which are drawn from the mainland. 
On the island of Tresco lives Mr. Smith, the Lord of the Isles. 
He is often called the King of Scilly or the silly king. I under- 
stand that he is a courteous, urbane, though rather eccentric 
gentleman, who stands very much on his dignity and seems to 
consider the feathered and finny denizens of the ocean as his per- 
sonal property, and expects visitors to call on him and ask his 
permission to shoot gulls and fish for coddlings. He is the only 
person I ever heard of who endeavors to assert proprietary rights 
over the wild creatures of the sea, leaving clams and oysters out 
of the question. Mr. Smith resides on the island of Tresco, which 
he and his predecessors have converted into an earthly Paradise, 
the gardens abounding with sub-tropical flowers, shrubs and 
plants. With great consideration he allows visitors to land and 
look over his property. 

The chief industry of the inhabitants of St. Mary’s is the rais- 
ing of little white flowers called Marguerites for the early spring 
London market, and tons of these pretty blooms are annually ex- 
ported. These flower farms are very remunerative, though con- 
siderable initial and annual outlays are required for fertilizers. 
There are about thirty islands, great and small, most of them very 
small, in fact mere rocks. The proper course for the ordinary 
tourist to pursue is to hire a sailing boat with two men by the 
week at a cost of twenty dollars, which, divided up, say, among 
four persons, is not an extravagant expense. Most of the time 
should be spent in the boat, cruising among the islets, bathing, 
fishing, shooting and sketching or kodaking. 

I will return after this digression to the “ Dora,” which has just 
cast its anchor. After lunch our whole party went on shore and 
visited the quaint little Elizabethan fort and the rather remark- 
able crenalated wall that completely surrounds the island of St. 
Mary. These may have been thought imposing fortifications at 
the time they were constructed, though to the modern eye it is 
difficult to see, comparing small things with great, how they could 
have kept out French or Spanish freebooters any more than the 
great Chinese wall did the Tartars. Of course it was the wrong 
season of the ^ear to see the Marguerites, so, without wasting any 


376 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

time, our party reembarked on the ‘‘Dora’s ” electric launch and 
made tracks for Tresco. Mr. Smith was away in London, so we 
left our visiting cards, inspected the gardens, and afterwards 
spent several pleasant hours cruising among the islets, landing 
where fancy prompted us to do so. We returned to the yacht in 
time to dress for dinner, thoroughly pleased with everything we 
had seen, and it was unanimously decided that the “ Dora ” should 
remain at her present anchorage until Saturday. 

It was late when we turned in that night. A regular sym- 
posium was held on deck after dinner, and it was well past mid- 
night before the sounds of merry voices, intermingled with peals 
of laughter, were stilled and the tiny wreaths of smoke ceased to 
circle upwards from our glowing cigars. 


A Hole In The Water. 


377 


CHAPTER XIIL 

A HOLE IN THE WATER. 


July 8, Friday. 

We were all up and about by 6 a. m. It would have been a 
positive sin to have lingered in bed on such a morning. We had 
determined overnight that a sea bath should be the first event on 
the program. So our push, ladies as well as gentlemen (with 
the exception of the Emperor and the Canon), including several 
of the ship’s officers, appeared on deck in bathing costumes. For 
the accommodation of the ladies, the skipper had given orders to 
have the mainsail boomed out from the ship’s side and immersed 
in the water so as to form a safe bath for the ladies and for those 
men who hadn’t much confidence in their natatory powers, and 
also in order to provide a harbor of refuge for wearied Heroes and 
Leanders. But it cannot be said that we availed ourselves to any 
great extent of this useful provision, as we are all more or less 
human ducks and drakes, several of us, especially Dawlish, Dora 
and Annie, expert swimmers. English ladies take to the water 
naturally, as is becoming to daughters of the mistress of the sea 
(as far as European waters are concerned), and love not to 
dawdle knee-deep on the edge of the surf in order to display their 
fetching bathing suits so dearly as their American sisters do. The 
Rector enjoyed his dip as much as any of us. What a dead game 
sport he is, ready to take his share in the amusement of the hour 
with as great a zest as the youngest. Dora is a most graceful and 
fearless swimmer, and Dawlish is simply amphibious. The 
former had the impudence to duck his reverence, the Rector, who 
took it most good-naturedly. The crew watched our marine gam- 
bols with interest, not unmingled with astonishment. While we 
were at breakfast they (the crew) had their turn in the water, 
but comparatively few availed themselves of the opportunity. It 
is a curious fact that most seamen do not care about bathing, 
and though, since the introduction of training ships for boys in- 


378 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

tended for the navy, swimming is regularly taught, not many 
practise the art in after life. 

We spent the rest of the day in completing our tour of the 
islands on the electric launch, and visited in the course of our 
peregrinations the fatal reef on which was lost, about the com- 
mencement of the eighteenth century, almost an entire British 
squadron, comprising three line-of-battle ships, owing to an error 
in navigation. In this appalling disaster perished over two thou- 
sand seamen and officers, including the celebrated Sir Cloudesley 
Shovel, who, originally a cabin boy, had risen by sheer force of 
merit to the high position of Admiral of the Blue. I had noticed 
a monument in Westminster Abbey erected to his memory as a 
national tribute to a gallant and capable officer. In those days, 
fifty years before Harrison’s invention of the chronometer, and 
when navigators, in place of the accurate sextant, were obliged 
to rely on the rough and ready method of determining the latitude 
by means of the cross staff, it is wonderful that similar tragedies 
like the one I have alluded to were not of more frequent occur- 
rence. 

After quitting this melancholy spot, we made for the Wulf 
Lighthouse, which has the reputation of being the most storm- 
lashed beacon in the wide world, the three keepers being fre- 
quently in winter cut off from all communication with their fel- 
low-men for weeks together, but on this occasion, with Father 
Neptune in his pleasantest and sunniest mood, we had no diffi- 
culty in approaching and leaving this safeguard of mariners. 

Our return journey to the “ Dora ” was not uneventful, in fact 
was dramatically the reverse. In the first place we landed on St. 
Martin (one of the larger islands) for lunch, which we had 
brought with us. The Canon essayed with most pronounced suc- 
cess to make the claret cup, while the Rector literally covered 
himself with glory by elaborating a most delicious salad and a 
lobster a Newburgh in the most approved chafing-dish style. I 
note here that our two churchmen seem to have learned with great 
nicety the art, if not of serving two masters, at least of enjoying 
the good things of this life, while not neglecting the concerns of 
that which is to come, which seems to be the highest possible 
achievement of Christian philosophy. 

It did not take us long to thoroughly explore the islet, and then 
Jim instituted a rifle contest with small, finely sighted weapons. 
We started our practice by firing at rocks, but found that we 


A Hole In The Water. 


379 


could have plenty of live targets in the shape of numerous large 
sea fowl called here cormorants or shads. These birds are ex- 
tremely voracious and do a vast amount of damage by devouring 
an immense quantity of small fry. In fact I have been informed 
that a cormorant will eat its own weight in fish in an incredibly 
short time. They, like crows, are very suspicious and perch on 
rocks out of gun but not of rifle shot, and at a range of from 
eighty to one hundred and fifty yards we successfully grassed, or 
rather watered, quite a few of these feathered robbers, Jim’s prac- 
tice being deadly in the extreme with his new Holland rook rifle. 
During this improvised tournament we had not noticed the ab- 
sence of Dawlish and Annie Leighton. Indeed we were by this 
time thoroughly accustomed to these sudden disappearances, as 
we all looked on the engagement as a sure thing, and would have 
suspected that the course of true love had not run smoothly if 
the couple had preferred our society to their own. Well, we had 
pretty well used up or frightened away the cormorants, and were 
thinking of reembarking, when Dora exclaimed : 

“ I hope nothing has happened to Captain Dawlish and Annie. 

I think, Jim, you might give them a view hello.” 

“ It would be a great scheme,” observed the Emperor, “ to leave 
them for a bit by themselves on the island and steal away. 
Wouldn’t they be scared? ” 

“ I don’t think it would phase them much,” said Bella, with a 
smile. 

Jim had just given tongue to one of his tremendous yells when 
the strayed couple sauntered up. 

“ Where have you been, my dear Annie? We had begun to 
think you were lost,” said the Canon, in a complacent tone of 
voice. 

“ If we lost our way, sir,” replied Dawlish, “ we have found , 
something else.” 

“ We were gathering wild flowers, dear papa,” said Annie, 
with downcast eyes. 

And this is my contribution to the bunch, sir, my sweet for- 
get-me-not/' said the gallant Captain, taking Annie’s hand in 
his and bowing to the company. 

“ And this is mine, dear papa,” said the blushing girl, looking 
coyly up into the face of her fiance as she spoke. 

It is needless to say, perhaps, that the happy pair were assailed 
by a perfect volley of congratulations. The Emperor, in the ex- 


380 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

uberance of his spirits, requested the exultant father-in law-elect 
to concoct a fresh brew of claret cup in which to drink the health 
of the happy couple. We all certainly felt in gushing spirits and 
as pleased as Punch. At last we reembarked again and were 
threading our devious way amongst the numerous picturesque 
islets. A smart breeze had sprung up, and there was quite a lip on 
the water, and our little launch began to get rather skittish. W e 
were bunched together on the stern ; the Canon was sitting on 
the rail, chatting and laughing gaily. Jim had just warned him 
in a joking tone of the precariousness of his position and of the 
likelihood of his (the Canon) making a hole in the water, when 
the launch gave a sort of sideway roll, followed by a plunge as 
a larger wave than usual struck her on the counter. In a moment 
the worthy churchman proved the truth of Jim’s prediction by 
losing his balance and falling overboard. Cries of alarm escaped 
simultaneously from the lips of the three ladies at the suddenness 
of the catastrophe, if one can dignify such an incident by so for- 
midable a word. But it was no laughing matter. The Canon 
was a big heavy man, and though fairly active for his years, as 
his golf performance showed at our late essay at Westward Ho, 
still he was no swimmer, and we could all see, as he rose sputter- 
ing and gasping to the surface, that he required speedy and effi- 
cacious help or he might be in very bad shape indeed, as he would 
be left some way astern before the launch could be rounded to 
and return to the rescue ; but help was fortunately at hand. Our 
champion athlete, Captain Dawlish, was standing at the time of 
the accident close to the Canon, engaged in conversation with 
him. With a most praiseworthy promptitude on seeing what 
had happened, he kicked away his shoes, tore off his coat and 
dived after his fiancee’s father, and swimming with a rapid, pow- 
erful overhead side stroke, was soon alongside the struggling 
cleric. In Dawlish’s wake came a further reinforcement in the 
shape of Jim Clark, who sustained the credit of his country by 
speedily following the Englishman’s example. So by the time 
the launch (which had had a considerable way on her) had turned, 
the half-drowning man had two daring swimmers to support him, 
and in a very brief space of time rescued and rescuers were once 
more on board. The whole affair lasted such a short time that we 
hardly realized what had happened when it was all over. The 
Emperor speedily opened a bottle of brandy and forced the Canon 
to drink a good sup, which had the effect of making him so sick 


A Hole In The Warer. 


381 

that we thought he would turn inside out. He discharged at least 
two quarts of a dubious mixture of sea water and claret cup. If 
the truth be known, the reverend gentleman had tasted so freely 
of the punch he had concocted and had exposed himself so un- 
wisely to the hot sun that there is no doubt that he was just a 
little full, which fact contributed more than the pitching of the 
boat to his loss of balance. Dawlish came in for a lot of praise 
for his prompt action, and Jim had his share as well, and as soon 
as the Canon was sufficiently recovered he thanked his gallant 
preservers most unfeignedly. Neither Dora nor her cousin Annie 
could be said to be in the least hysterical, but they both broke 
down and had a little cry apiece in the dripping arms of their 
husband and lover, respectively. 

Every atom of voltage in the storage batteries of the launch was 
requisitioned to convey us as quickly as possible to the “ Dora.” 
The incident had been observed by the second officer on the bridge 
through his telescope. The news of the accident had spread like 
wildfire among all hands, and the whole crew received us with 
rousing cheers, that only British and American seamen can give 
tongue to. The respect of the men for the owner was increased a 
hundred-fold by his behavior. There’s nothing that appeals to 
the hearts of such men like an act of courage. They were also 
proud to feel that a countryman of theirs had been first in the 
field. The old man, too, got a cheer on his own account by shak- 
ing hands with Jim and Dawlish in the presence of the ship’s com- 
pany. So, on the whole, what looked at first a serious happen- 
ing was changed into an occasion for rejoicing. The Canon went 
to bed for an hour and showed up at the dinner table, none the 
worse for his immersion. 

A banquet and special jollification was given to the crew that 
evening, and the old man, in proposing the health at dinner of the 
engaged couple, said : 

“ Canon, you may well be proud of the man who will soon claim 
your sweet daughter as his wife, as proud as I am of my dear son. 
The conduct of these two gallant fellows has showed what stuff 
Americans and English are made of. I am as pleased now to sail 
in a ship that flies the British ensign as I should be if that flag 
was ‘ Old Glory ’ itself.” This was an immense concession, and 
we all blessed the Canon for his having taken an involuntary 
bath. 


382 


A 20th Century Cinderella. , 


CHAPTER XIV. 
Annie's birthday. 


July 9, Saturday. 

We weighed anchor at the reasonable hour of eight o’clock, and 
bade an adieu, which I trust (as far as I am concerned) will not 
be an eternal one, to the Scillies. It had previously been decided 
to give the engines of the “ Dora ” a short trial. Our first objec- 
tive was Milford Haven, in South Wales, in which splendid harbor 
is situated the Royal dockyard of Pembroke. How admirably fa- 
vored Great Britain is in respect to harbors! It would seem as 
if she was destined by nature to be Mistress of the Seas, at least 
of the European seas. Compare her coast line with that of 
France. It is not easy to say (leaving Toulon out of the ques- 
tion) that the latter country possesses even one really first-class 
entirely unartificial port open to ships drawing 27 feet of water in 
all tidal conditions. It is greatly to the credit of la Belle France 
that she has made such a good showing as she has done with such 
a tremendous handicap. 

To return, it was a fine day, with a stiff breeze from the west, 
which lent a sufficient movement to the water. The “ Dora,” un- 
der a full head of steam, glided along with the speed almost of a 
destroyer, and in what seemed an incredibly short time we were 
at Milford. During the trial Jim was nearly all the time in the 
engine room, and as we slowed down previous to entering the 
haven, he excitedly rushed up to where our party was seated on 
the deck and shouted, ” The ‘ Dora’s ’ a bute ; we have done an 
average of 28j^ knots an hour since we left St. Mary’s. The tur- 
bines work grandly. What do you think of that, my darling?^’ 
said he, as he kissed his wife and shook hands with the Emperor. 
Jim was dressed like a common fireman in overalls, and was freely 
bespattered with oil. “ I will just run down and change my 
clothes and we will have lunch, but we must drink success to the 
' Dora’s ’ first trial,” and he summoned a servant by touching an 


Annie’s Birthday. 383 

electric bell. Champagne was brought, and we all honored the 
toast. The officers seemed as pleased as the owner, at the suc- 
cess of the run. 

The course of Milford Haven as far as Pembroke is winding 
and picturesque. When we had dropped anchor, we lunched and 
then landed to inspect the dockyard, in which a first-class battle- 
ship, an armored cruiser and a coast defense ship were being con- 
structed. After this we were driven in hack carriages to Pem- 
broke Castle, formerly a very strong place with a great donjon 
tower in a fair state of preservation. Once more on board, we 
proceeded a short distance along the southerly coast of Wales, 
past a very prettily situated seaside resort called Tenby, then 
across Caermarthen Bay, as far as the industrial town of Swan- 
sea, whence we headed in the direction of the island in the Bris- 
tol Channel called the Steep Holms, and soon arrived once more 
at Lundy safety harbor, in time to make an early dinner, after 
which we landed on the mainland at Clovelly, and found at the top 
of the long, steep street several of the autos awaiting us, and en- 
joyed a most delightful run in the cool of the evening past Bude, 
Boscastle and Tintagel and other points of interest to New Quay, 
at which sweet little Cornish coast resort we arrived just as the 
night was coming on. The main body of the autos had been or- 
dered to proceed to a chosen camping ground on Dartmoor near 
to Tavistock, and await our arrival. Our section included the 
auto coach, the Boudoir, Smoker, Wagon and Utility car. At 
New Quay we found the “ Dora ” awaiting us, and we were not 
sorry to seek the retirement of our comfortable staterooms. 

July 10, Sunday. 

When we had all assembled on deck at about 8 a. m., previous 
to breakfast, Jim said impulsively to his wife, “ What is the pro- 
gram to-day, darling? You and Dawlish arrange these mat- 
ters, but I should say that there’s some celebration on, judging 
from the elaborate toilets you ladies have bedecked yourselves 
with.” 

“ You forget, Jim dear, that it is Sunday, and of course we are 
all going to church,” replied Dora in a rather severe tone. 
“ When we have returned to the yacht we will have a bathe in 
the briny, followed by lunch. In the afternoon we will indulge 
in a stroll about town, and end up by dining at the hotel.” 

” But I always supposed,” put in the Emperor, “ that no one 


384 A 20th Century Cinderella, 

ever went to church at shore resorts, at least they don’t do so in 
the States.” 

” But we are not in the States now, dear Daddy,” replied our 
queen, “ and I don’t see why one should act differently in matters 
of conduct and religion when one is on a cruise to what one does 
at home. At least that is my opinion.” 

And a very good opinion, too, my dear Dora,” said her uncle 
gravely. “ I am rejoiced to see that my sweet niece remains true 
to her English training.” 

“ You are an exception, Mrs. Clark, I am glad to say,” said 
Dawlish, “ to the general run of our countrymen and country- 
women who, though they may be quite strict Sabbatarians at 
home, when in Paris or other fashionable continental cities throw 
off their assumed cloaks of sanctimoniousness and (as the saying 
is) when in Rome, do as the Romans do, cut church, go to race 
meetings and theaters, and out-Herod even the gay Parisians 
themselves, as the great majority of even the most worldly and 
frivolous of these mark the sanctity of the day by attending early 
Mass. We have great qualities, we English people, but we are 
the greatest hypocrites the world Eas ever seen.” 

“ That is a very scathing judgment, Captain,” said the Rector. 
“ I guess, though, you are about right. But I could have told that 
we are churchbound by the elaborateness of the ladies’ costumes. 
It is certainly paying a great compliment to a little country church 
to beautify it so, and it should give a finishing touch to the par- 
son’s eloquence. Speaking for myself, I always preach better 
when there is a sprinkling in my congregation of smart, well 
dressed women. I feel exhilarated and nerved up, and corre- 
spondingly depressed when having to address a mass of poor, 
shabby victims of hopeless poverty. I long to relieve their desti- 
tution ; but what can I say to them but bid them be patient in the 
midst of their temporal tribulations, and console themselves by 
looking forward to the high old time that will be theirs in the glad 
hereafter, when things shall be evened up. In a word, I have to 
preach the negative virtue of resignation. On the other hand, in 
holding forth to the well-to-do, my task is easier and less per- 
functory. I have merely to point out the beauty of the virtues of 
self-denial and of alms-giving, which widen to the rich the nar- 
row passage that leads to Paradise through the eye of a needle. 
Again, a wealthy, educated congregation does not object to a little 
wholesome castigation in the shape of reproval for their short- 


Annie's Birthday. 385 

comings ; they take it good-humoredly, and rather like being told 
in a gentlemanly fashion that they gamble too much and habitu- 
ally over-stimulate themselves.” 

” But, Rector,” said I, “ don’t you think that it is the chief 
object of a great many fashionable women to display their fine 
clothes in church to the best advantage? Of course it is under- 
stood that present company is entirely excluded from this dis- 
cussion.” 

“ I don’t agree with you. Judge,” replied the Rector. “ It may 
be true of some, but not of the majority of society dames. Surely 
it is as much an act of worship to beautify the House of God by 
charming forms in elegant costumes as it is to deck the altar with 
Lenten lilies and the lectern and the pulpit with roses and or- 
chids at Easter time. Nothing was considered too good for Solo- 
mon’s Temple, gold of Ophir, cedar of Lebanon, ivory of India, 
and possibly silk of China, and though the lilies of the field may 
have been better appareled than Solomon in all his glory, we 
may be sure that when that monarch attended the services of the 
temple he himself had constructed, along with his thousand wives 
and his illustrious visitors, such as the Queen of Sheba and 
Hiram of Tyre, it would be next to impossible in these modern 
and somewhat shoddy days to equal the splendor of the garments 
worn on such occasions. It is not for any of us to pry into the 
secret motives of others. But I say, for my part, come, ladies, to 
my church in your prettiest frocks with your hearts filled with 
love and charity. Adorn your lives with good works and your 
bodies with smart clothes, and so fulfil the destiny Divine Provi- 
dence has marked out for you, that of embellishing His beautiful 
world and of gladdening the hearts of all men.” 

You may bet your bottom dollar that the ladies applauded vo- 
ciferously this decidedly original sentiment, and we men could not 
refrain from adding our share to the meed of praise. 

” I guess. Rector,” said I, laughing, “ that yours is the most 
ingenious plea ever put forward in defense of feminine vanity, 
and now the ladies will henceforth be able to appeal to the dictum 
of so eminent an authority as your worshipful self when accused 
of any amount of extravagance in the shape of frills and fur- 
belows. But seriously, don’t you think the attention of suscep- 
tible males is apt to be distracted from religious exercises and 
from the due digestion of weighty words from the pulpit by the 
presence of deliciously gowned pretty women? The prayers of 

25 


386 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

a St. Anthony would be apt to assume an incoherent and mean- 
ingless form if he were sitting in the pew behind our fair ladies, 
with those three exquisite Paris hats right in front of his saintly 
visage.” 

“ Beauty in any shape is of Heaven, heavenly,” replied the 
Rector, adroitly parrying my home thrust. “ Everything ugly 
and repulsive is suggestive of vice. You never saw a homely- 
looking angel in any of the pictures of the old masters, whereas 
incarnate evil is always depicted as black and frightful. How 
charming, too, is nature in all its aspects. You may be sure. 
Judge, that beauty is allied with holiness, and that the Greeks 
knew what they were about when they worshiped the To Kalon.” 

“ I am afraid the Archbishop of Canterbury would dub such 
opinions as heterodox,” said the Canon, laughing, “ but I agree 
with every word you say, Rector. Nothing elevates the healthy 
mind so much as being surrounded with lovely objects. The 
hideous, sordid surroundings of the poor in our large cities has 
a great deal to do with the prevalence of crime and of a degener- 
ate mentality. How can people cultivate virtue and moral living 
in close, dirty tenement buildings? Statistics show that quite a 
novel reformation has resulted in some of the most crowded of 
the London slums by the turning old churchyards into gardens. 
Flowers preach silent sermons and point the soul heavenwards.” 

Till the Canon had put in his oar, I had supposed that our good 
Rector had been talking through his hat, in other words, had been 
poking fun at us; but I now was made aware of the undercur- 
rent of true wisdom that ran like a golden thread in a piece of 
rich tapestry through the tenor of his argument, but our atten- 
tion was directed to more material objects by the announcement 
of breakfast. I don’t think I ever enjoyed my food so thoroughly 
as I have done since we started on our expedition ; and how good 
one’s baccy tastes, too, afterwards. I feel like a new man in every 
sense. There can be no question that the English know how to 
live healthy lives, and we Americans discover the truth of this 
when we come to adopt their methods. Also the English climate 
is mild and nerve-soothing, whereas the American climate is ex- 
citing and therefore exhausting, and we pay the penalty of leading 
the world in business by worrying ourselves into premature 
graves. Behind the successful American man of business stalk 
the grim specters of heart trouble and of Bright’s disease, ready 
to encircle him with their fatal, shadowy arms. 


Annie’s Birthday. 387 

The launch conveyed us to the jetty used by the local fisher- 
men, and we strolled up through the quaint little town to a rather 
dilapidated church. We were shown to the pew directly under 
the pulpit by an ancient-looking man with a shrewd, rugged face. 
Our advent had evidently been bruited abroad by this time, as the 
moderate-sized edifice was crammed with natives and resorters. 
There was, indeed, hardly standing room. The meek-faced par- 
son was obviously much flurried and made divers mistakes in 
giving out the hymns and read the second lesson first. He didn’t 
seem able to take his eyes off Dora, who had kind of hypnotized 
the poor man, but in this last respect he was not singular. He 
preached quite a decent sermon, however; at least the first part 
went off in good shape till, raising his eyes, as he came to his now 
“ fourthly, brethren,” his line of vision encountered Dora’s glori- 
ous optics, and somehow he got confused and dropped his manu- 
script, and it took him fully two minutes before he could find his 
place again. He turned as red as a peony, and I sincerely pitied 
the poor soul. At last he was safely through, to his own, as well 
as to our relief, and while the final hymn was being sung the 
ushers took up the collection, which must have easily beaten the 
record for that place of worship. All our party gave liberally, 
and I could see that the check which the Emperor tossed into the 
plate was one for three figures. There was quite a crowd as- 
sembled in the pretty churchyard to see us come out, and I could 
hear such remarks made in low but audible tones as ” Just look 
at her dress ! ” “ That’s the man that killed the robbers. He’s 

the aluminum king.” “ Isn't she a beauty ? ” “ Oh, dear, what a 
hat,” etc., etc. I am not sure but that our ladies did not feel more 
flattered at these outspoken, unstudied expressions of candid 
criticism than they had ever done at the silent, approving, insou- 
ciant glances of the biased members of the smart set in town. 

We walked to Towans Head, from which vantage spot we 
gained a fine view of the adjoining coast scenery. What a gem 
of a seaside resort this is. We have nothing like it in the States. 
We possess hardly (Maine excepted) any rocky cliffs on our coast 
line, which, as a general rule, is depressingly tame. Nature has 
not been at all kind to us in this respect. 

On our return to the yacht, we found that we had severally 
acquired such an appetite that the proposed bath was postponed 
till the afternoon. Until we had satisfied the cravings of nature, 
all else seemed of minor importance. About ^ p. m. we had our 


388 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

swim, our graceful group being closely watched by numerous 
parties in rowboats. I for one did not regret the display of this 
insular curiosity, as the water toilets of our ladies constitute in 
themselves a salutary educating medium, wherever they happen 
to be in evidence. Refreshed by our dip, we half dressed for 
dinner. By this I don’t mean to say we only put on half the usual 
articles of attire, but that our ladies wore high-necked gowns and 
we men Tuxedo coats, so that we were en denii toilette, as the 
French say. Gallic idioms do not bear literal translation. The 
Emperor had resolved to give the local cooks a chance, and so had 
engaged a table in the restaurant of the New Quay Arms Hotel. 
Before starting, it was discovered quite by accident that it was 
Annie Leighton’s birthday. This occasioned a short colloquy be- 
tween Jim and Captain Beattie, who gave several orders to his 
subordinates. On landing at the jetty we walked along the north 
shore, explored several small caverns and ascended the steep zig- 
zag path cut in the side of the cliff that led up to the hotel, which 
was crammed with resorters, and our party, especially the ladies, 
took the place by storm. All eyes were directed to our table, and 
the women guests seemed most of the time to be taking mental 
photographs of our ladies’ costumes, rather than attending to the 
prosaic business of masticating their food. The dinner was quite 
a simple repast, mock turtle, boiled salmon, shoulder of mutton 
(and oh, what mutton!), plovers on toast, raspberry and red cur- 
rant pie with scalded (alias Cornish) cream, simply delicious, fin- 
ished up with old Cheddar cheese. I wish I knew where to get 
the last-named. In the matter of liquor, we struck it in the shape 
of magnums of Pierret Jouet of 1914, a perfect treasure trove. 
We did justice to it and drank the fair Annie’s health in brim- 
ming bumpers. While we were still at the pie stage, Annie, with 
a merry, mischievous expression on her face, asked a waiter to 
bring her some more Devonshire cream. The waiter, a rather 
* awkward, uncouth-looking creature, whose dress clothes had ob- 
viously been made for some one else, gave a start as if an un- 
seen person had pricked him with a pin. He seemed quite be- 
wildered for a moment, his mouth opened and his eyes turned up 
till only the whites were visible, and he seemed to give a kind of 
spasmodic gasp, as he replied in a jerky fashion: 

“ I am sorry that we do not keep it, madam.” 

“ But I have just eaten some at this table,” retorted Annie. 


Annie’s Birthday. 389 

“ Oh, that is Cornish cream, madam ; quite different, I assure 
you, and vastly superior to that made in Devon.” 

“ Well, I will take Cornish cream, then,” said Annie, and the 
waiter hastened to obey her behest. 

“ Now, Willie,” continued Annie, addressing her fiance, “ do 
you mean to tell me that there is any real difference between 
Devonshire and Cornish creams ? The waiter, it is true, evidently 
seems to think so, but then he is prejudiced, and possibly never 
was in the former county. But you are enlightened. Do you still 
stick to your strange opinion? Are not these two creams ex- 
actly and identically the same? Won’t you own up to it now? ” 

“ There are no two things exactly similar in nature, dear,” re- 
plied Dawlish. “ For instance, there are no two sheep in a flock, 
no two leaves in a forest exactly alike in all respects, so surely 
this is possible of two creams.” 

“ That is begging the question,” replied Annie. “ Now, 
Judge,” said she, appealing to me, “ you are capable of giving 
an impartial and dispassionate judgment on any subject. Can 
you detect any difference between this cream and that which the 
chefs made on board the yacht, and that, too, which we enjoyed 
at Ilfracombe? ” 

‘‘ I confess,” replied I, “ that I am unable to detect any differ- 
ence at all, but, of course, that doesn’t absolutely prove that there 
exists no variation.” 

“ I consider that is a most non-committal kind of statement,” re- 
plied Annie. “ You lawyers are sometimes over-cautious, but I 
consider the judgment is in my favor. What have you to say to 
this, Willie? ” said she, smiling at her lover. 

“ May I have leave to address the court, your Honor ? ” said 
Dawlish, speaking to me. 

“ Why, certainly,” replied I, “ though what defence you can set 
up I cannot for the life of me imagine.” 

“ Well, you know,” replied the Captain, what I have to say 
is brief and to the point, or rather two points. First, that it 
takes many years of careful study and the consuming of scores 
of quarts of cream to be enabled, assisted by an exceptionally 
susceptible palate, to detect any difference between the Devon- 
shire and Cornish varieties of the same article. Secondly, you 
cannot eliminate inborn prejudice from a real Devonian or a 
genuine Cornishman, except you chop it from him with an axe 
or blow it out with a shotgun.” 


390 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

“ In other words, you have to kill them first,” said Jim. 

“ Precisely so,” said Dawlish, gravely. 

‘‘ Well, that’s a candid avowal at any rate,” broke in the Canon, 
with a laugh. “ So, my dear daughter, I had better give you as 
a wedding present an axe and a shotgun, as your future husband 
is a Devonian himself.” 

“ I say, Dawlish,” cried Jim, “ that’s one on the point of the 
jaw for you, old man.” 

“ Yes, a regular knockout checkmate,” echoed the Rector. 

“ I don’t think it will check the mating of that pair at any 
rate,” observed Dora quietly. 

“ I must say, Dawlish,” said the Emperor, “ you jollied the 
whole crowd pretty neatly about the cream. You fairly took in 
the Judge. I don’t care thirty cents whether this cream is Devon- 
shire or Cornish, it’s mighty good, and so is this pie ; and I don’t 
know what you have done, ladies, and gentlemen, but I have made 
a great dinner. I say, waiter,” continued the Emperor, “ just go 
and bring the chef. I should like to see him for a moment.” 

The waiter retired, but soon returned and said: 

“ There’s no one of the name of Chef staying in the hotel, sir,” 
There’s the greatest blockhead on earth in this hotel,” roared 
the old man, and that’s you. If you haven’t got a chef, bring 
up the cook.” 

With that the half-dazed servant scuttled out of the room like 
a frightened rabbit, and soon returned with a very stout two hun- 
dred and twenty-pound female. She had a great red moonface 
and a mouth that seemed to extend all round her head when she 
smiled, which was continually. 

“ Cook,” said the old man pompously, “ I am much pleased 
with the dinner you have prepared for us. Here is a small token 
of my respect,” and he handed her a five-pound note. She made 
a reverence towards the Emperor, which made her look like a 
firkin of butter doing a curtsey, and having mumbled her thanks, 
wobbled out of the room, highly delighted, and well she might 
be, for that public testimonial to her prowess coming from such 
a famous gourmet would tend to increase her own self-esteem and 
her value in her employer’s eyes, in a way nothing else could 
have done. 

After the consumption of a couple of bottles of very fair port, 
we men joined the ladies on the piazza facing the sea. All the 
guests of the hotel and a number of the outside visitors and re- 


391 


Annies Birthda}^ 

sorters had also been drawn thither with the view of seeing the 
famous Clark party. I forgot to mention that a detachment of 
the Blue Hungarian Band, eight in number, had that day arrived 
from town. They had been engaged by the Emperor for the 
remainder of the trip. The musicians had landed by the old man’s 
orders and discoursed sweet music, to the great delight of all. 

It was a delicious night, balmy and cool. Suddenly two search- 
lights streamed from the deck of the yacht and commenced mak- 
ing mystical movements on the sky. 

‘‘ What is the yacht signaling. Captain Beattie ? ” said Dora, 
who sat next to him. 

“ Many happy returns of the day to Miss Annie Leighton,” re- 
plied the officer. 

“ Oh, isn’t that clever ? ” said Annie. “ I ought to be happy 
after that.” Just then the whole yacht burst forth into a blaze 
of electricity, festoons of lamps gleaming everywhere, outlining 
her spars and funnels, and then the three-inch guns began to bang 
away, the number of explosions according with the years of 
Annie’s age. This was followed by a really smart pyrotechnic 
display. Fireworks always look better on the water than on the 
land, and the bouquets of rockets made a fine show. 

The old man insisted on standing drinks to the crowd, and 
many was the lament from numerous fair ones that it was Sun- 
day, and therefore dancing was necessarily tabooed. 


392 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XV. 

'A SERMON ON STONES. 


July ii, Monday. 

Eight o’clock saw us all on the auto coach ready for a start. 
We were sorry to leave New Quay. It is a most charming little 
out-of-the-way resort, and we all determined, though this was 
our first, that it should not (D. V.) be our last visit. 

We were to rejoin the “ Dora ” at Falmouth. We started at a 
smart pace and made straight for the Land’s End via Redruth and 
St. Ives, which latter is a most ancient fishing town, so old, in- 
deed, that it must have been founded soon after the flood, if not 
before. 

We did not stop to inspect its antiquities, but sped onwards 
till we arrived at the termination of all things British, that is the 
Land’s End. The weather was brilliantly fine and the scenery 
splendid ; what an ironbound coast it is, no chance for a vessel 
or her crew when she goes ashore on those cruel rocks. We left 
the autos and walked down to the edge of the cliffs. 

At one point we halted for two reasons : first, to allow the 
Canon to ventilate his opinions on the subject of rocking stones, 
of which there were several very fine specimens in full blast 
just hereabout. The second reason was to give Miss Leighton 
and Captain Dawlish a chance for a quiet stroll and a spoon un- 
observed among the rocks. This latter was the truly philan- 
thropic idea of our queen. 

It is needless to say that it wasn’t long before the happy pair 
had slipped out of sight, and the rest of us were gathered around 
our antiquarian. His opinion on the formation of rocking stones 
is curious, and though I believe accepted by most scientific men, 
may not be so well known to the unlearned majority. It is this : 
sometimes it happens that an enormous block of granite which 
probably was conveyed to its present resting place by some travel- 
ing glacier of a remote period, has a vein of softer material, such 


A Sermon On Stones. 


393 

as limestone or decayed trap, running crosswise through it. 
This vein in the course of ages is gradually worn away all round 
by the action of the weather, leaving at last the upper portion 
of the rock balanced on the last remaining fragment of the soft 
vein, which is the connecting link with the lower half of the stone, 
and so marvelously even is this process of decomposition that a 
child’s hand may sometimes suffice to set in motion a block of 
granite weighing from ten to twenty tons. 

By the time the learned churchman had concluded his sermon 
on stones, we were prepared to do justice to a most appetizing 
lunch that the servants had spread on an adjacent rock, and the 
lovers certainly gave a visible proof that the tender passion does 
not necessarily impair the appetite. 

How delicious a good cigar tastes after an al fresco banquet! 
There may be troubles in store for all of us, but we have none 
to-day. The beginning and the end of my creed is to be as happy 
as you can yourself in this world, and to give as much happiness 
as possible to others. People call me an Epicurean : so be it. I 
have no patience with those who say that it is sinful to enjoy 
yourself ; that this world is a miserable desert full of thorns, 
lions, donkeys, bears and bulls, though it is true there is a super- 
abundance of the last two. The saner in body and mind a man 
or woman is, the happier is he or she likely to be. Happiness 
to an immense degree is a question of digestion and dollars. 

With glad hearts the majority of the members of our party 
mounted our bikes, leaving the Emperor, the Rector, and the 
Canon to their cigars and conversation on the Coach. 

The going was too good for anything. Oh, those granite roads 
of Cornwall, shall I ever forget them I We soon covered the 
distance that lay between Land’s End and Penzance, through 
which pleasantly situated town we sped, our procession of cars 
evidently giving the inhabitants the impression that a circus had 
entered the place. We cried a halt at the neighboring village of 
Marazion, and it being low water, walked across to St. Michael’s 
Mount, famous in legendary lore as being formerly the residence 
of the first giant whom Jack, the slayer of monstrous humans, 
killed. It is difficult to separate the truth from the fiction in these 
tales. 

The castle is most picturesque and must have been pretty well 
impregnable in ancient times. The view from the terrace is de- 
lightful. While there we made out the “ Dora ” steaming leisurely 


394 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

along on her way to Falmouth. The day was young yet, and 
as we were about to tackle some hilly country, on our return 
to Marazion, we replaced our trusty cycles on their stands and 
took our accustomed places on the Coach. 

Arriving at Helston we left the rest of the cars there, and made 
a side dash to the Lizard, a narrow promotory about ten miles 
long running straight out to sea ; at its end are placed two light- 
houses. These are the first English beacons that a homeward- 
bound vessel sights, and consequently they are probably as im- 
portant to commerce as any in the world. 

We stayed on the Lizard long enough to admire the rugged 
cliff scenery, and then sped back again, only having been absent 
from Helston little more than two hours. A delightful ride of 
about twenty-five miles brought us to Falmouth, where the faith- 
ful “ Dora ” was awaiting us. We were glad to get on board and 
enjoy a bath and an easy time previous to dinner. 

We found it to be an immense advantage, this keeping in touch 
with the yacht, as we could always replenish our electricity, etc., 
etc., without having to depend on local sources of supply. 

July 12, Tuesday. 

We spent the early hours of the forenoon in inspecting the 
granite quarries, which have supplied material for building the 
great Spithead forts of Portsmouth and other public works ; also 
we paid a visit to the old-time castle that was built to command 
the narrow entrance to the land-locked haven, capacious enough 
to allow all the fleets of Britain to ride at anchor therein. The 
castle is still retained as an ornament and curiosity, but as a 
means of protection it has given place to batteries of powerful 
9.2 inch and 7.5 inch quick-firing guns, dirigible torpedoes, mines, 
and submarine torpedo boats. 

Having made a rendezvous with the yacht in Plymouth Sound, 
we betook ourselves to our land conveyances, having first replen- 
ished their electric storage batteries. 

We proceeded along the main road via Redruth and Bodmin to 
Truro, at which latter place we dismounted in order to view the 
cathedral, a modern affair of modest dimensions, of no great 
architectural beauty. I should judge that it would be quite im- 
possible nowadays, to build a cathedral equal to the magnificent 
Gothic edifices that constitute one of the principal glories of the 
old country. Probably St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Fifth Avenue, 
New York City, is the finest strictly modern sacred building of 


A Sermon On Stones. 


395 


the nineteenth and twentieth centuries in the world, the chief 
secular ones being the Capitol and Public Library at Washington 
D. C., and the Courts of Justice at Brussels, Belgium. 

We were invited to descend one of the great tin mines near 
Bodmin, but we did not avail ourselves of the privilege, owing to 
the heat of the weather, but I should have liked to have visited 
some very ancient workings of the Phoenicians, that bear, so I 
am told, the marks of the tools of the old-time miners^ who 
have with their implements been mingled with the dust for more 
than 2,000 years, but in this I found myself in a minority of 
one, as the cycling members of our party were so enamoured of 
the billiard-like surface of the splendid road after leaving Redruth, 
that nothing would satisfy them but pressing on. 

The last stage of the journey was performed in smart time, we 
once more stored our cycles and let the autos career along at 
about twenty miles an hour. As we crossed the high-level bridge 
at Calstock that spans the Tavy River, we could see at our feet 
the city of Devonport, with its naval dockyard, which stands third 
in importance after Portsmouth and Chatham. 

We passed by the series of outlying forts that form the land 
defences of Plymouth, and entered that city, and autoed up the 
High Street to the neighborhood of the Hoe, where we lingered 
for an hour or more inspecting the statue of Drake, and the 
sacred spot of ground where that hero with his brother English 
worthies played that ever famous game of bowls at the time 
when the Spanish Armada was sighted coming in the shape of 
a cresent up the English Channel. In the long list of Britains’ 
illustrious sons, I am inclined to think that Drake should be 
placed the first, even outranking the immortal Nelson himself. 
It was chiefly owing to Drake’s consummate skill, his noble 
patriotism and invincible resolution, that the fleet was kept in 
readiness at the most critical moment, not only in English, but in 
European history, when the miserable parsimony of Queen Eliza- 
beth grudged not only pay but (incredible as it may read) even 
provisions and ammunition to the heroic sailors who were to 
engage in Britain’s Salamis. 

Not only this, but his incomparable example and fearless 
audacity inspired those around him with unconquerable valor. 
The skill with which he harried the “ invincible ” Armada in its 
passage up the Channel, and fought and gained the crowning 
victory of Gravelines (possibly the most important naval action 


396 A 2oth Century Cinderella. ’ 

in modern history), is above all praise, and unquestionably pre- 
served the liberties, religious and secular, not only of his own 
country, but those of Europe as well. If England had fallen, 
all else worth preserving would have disappeared, and possibly 
even the United States of America might now be a Spanish pos- 
session. I think that there should be a statue erected to Drake in 
the Central Park, New York City, for perhaps it is not going too 
far to say that it was he who made the victories of Manila and 
Santiago possible. 

Plymouth is a doubly sacred spot to /.merican pilgrims, for 
here it was that the “ Mayflower was equipped, and it was from 
Plymouth Sound that she started on her ever memorable and 
epoch-making voyage. 

I have thought fit to pen these lines in my diary ; they are 
culled from reflections that crowded into my mind as we sat on 
the Hoe listening to the exquisite strains of the Marine Artillery 
band. It is somewhat curious, by the way, that the marine forces 
of England and the United States respectively should furnish 
the best service music of the two countries. 

We wended our way to the landing-place, where we found the 
“ Dora’s ” launch waiting for us. We were soon on board in time 
for tea, after which refreshment I occupied an hour (previous 
to dressing for dinner) in writing up my diary. 

I had always heard that the climate of Plymouth is distin- 
guished by excessive humidity, and that rain, a penetrating soft, 
persistent form of Scotch mist, is the rule rather than the excep- 
tion. Whether there was a special interposition of Providence 
in our favor I know not, but what I do know, is that during our 
short stay at Plymouth, the weather was all that could be possibly 
desired. 

The captain of the “Yorkshire” had (after asking the Em- 
peror’s leave) advised some of his naval friends of our expected 
arrival, and so after dinner various steam and electric launches 
came along side the “ Dora,” whose after-deck (it is not proper 
to say “ quarter-deck ” when referring to a yacht) was soon heard 
the buzzing of conversation and rippling peals of laughter. At 
intervals selections by our band were given from the “ Mikado,” 
the “ Pirates of Penzance ” or “ Hungarian Rhapsodies,” the 
notes of which seemed to float with entrancing sweetness on the 
lambent air, as we sat around in groups partaking of our creature 


A Sermon On Stones. 


397 


comforts in luxurious deck chairs, enjoying the soft night air, 
and each other’s society, gazing all the time o’er the lake-like 
waters of the glorious Sound, on whose translucent surface were 
reflected the lights of the starry firmament and those of the adja- 
cent city. 


398 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A MASHING OLD SALT. 

July 13, Wednesday. 

We were up betimes, and after breakfast the “ Dora,” having 
got up a good head of steam, put out to sea and gave a specimen 
of her phenomenal powers along the coast, first to the Lizard, 
afterwards as far as Exmouth. On our return we visited the 
Eddystone Lighthouse and the famous breakwater, and then 
casting anchor in the Sound, we boarded the electric launch and 
paid a visit to the romantic and exquisite country seat of Lord 
Mount Edgecombe, whose acquaintance we had made in town. 
His Lordship was in London, but under the conduct of his 
steward we were courteously shown over the house and grounds, 
and enjoyed peeps of the beautifully timbered park. We then re- 
turned to the yacht for lunch, which meal being over we set out 
for Devonport, inspected Drake’s Island and a portion of the 
dockyard, and then once more mounted the auto coach and sped 
away to Dartmoor. 

We found our camp about five miles from Tavistock, pitched 
in a most delightfully wild location, surrounded by rugged tors. 
After tea the auto coach was called again into requisition, and we 
paid a fleeting visit to the wondrously beautiful residence of the 
Duke of Bedford. I could hardly have believed that such a 
fairy-like place existed except in the Arabian Nights. The 
gardens are a seven days’ wonder. 

We returned tired but happy to the camp, and enjoyed a 
night’s refreshing rest in our luxurious gipsy tents. What a 
blessing it is to be in a land where the dreaded mosquito is un- 
known. The pure air of Dartmoor, apart from anything else, is 
an excellent soporific. 


July 14, Thursday. 

Attended by our flying detachment of autos, we proceeded to 


399 


A Mashing Old Salt. 

Exeter via Launceston and Okehampton, and a most delightful 
and invigorating ride it proved. Dartmoor possesses a charm of 
its own, and it certainly is one of the finest of England's play- 
grounds. 

We didn’t trouble our cycles much, as the country through 
which we passed was for the most part too hilly. A halt of two 
hours was called at Exeter in order to view the splendid Cathedral 
and the ancient castle. 

Exeter was formerly the principal city of the West. Its 
strategic position made it a coveted post. The Conqueror found 
it a hard nut to crack, and it had to stand several sieges at 
various times, during the anarchic reign of Stephen, the Conten- 
tion of the Roses, and the great civil war, its possession gave 
to the victors, for the time being, a firm hold on all the west 
country. 

Leaving this notable place behind, we cyclists mounted our 
wheels and sped swiftly (followed by our autos) in the direction 
of Torquay. Before arriving at this fashionable winter resort, 
we had a picnic lunch al fresco. Torquay, like a miniature 
Rome, is built on seven hills, which are dotted with exquisite 
villas peeping out from luxuriant verdure. Near at hand is 
Torbay, where William the Third landed with his army in order 
to preserve the liberties of the English people, endangered by the 
insane folly of the wretched bigot, James Second, the last mon- 
arch of that miserable Stuart dynasty, which presents the most 
eminent specimen of hereditary maladministration of successive 
monarchs the history of the world has recorded. 

From Torquay we bowled along the coast road to Teignmouth, 
a pleasant summer resort, where we had a sea dip and a stroll 
on the sands, the happy hunting grounds of countless children 
with their parents and nursemaids. From thence we passed 
through Dawlish, another and smaller resort, with its curious 
rocks, worked by the surges of ages into various suggestive 
shapes, the principal of them being called the Parson and Clerk, 
from their fancied resemblance to a clergyman preaching in an 
old-time three-decker pulpit, with his coadjutor underneath dron- 
ing out the responses. 

By a pretty roundabout route we turned back, and at length 
arrived at our camp, which occupied a convenient site on the 
southern verge of Dartmoor, a few miles from Torquay. 


400 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

July 15, Friday. 

There was no particular occasion to hurry, so we spent the 
early hours of the morning, loafing around the vicinity of the 
camp, enjoying the scenery and the pure fresh air. 

Dora, Annie Leighton, and Dawlish did a little sketching in 
water color. I was surprised at the real talent displayed by the 
last named. Sketching is a delightful accomplishment which 
so few American ladies seem to take to. English ladies are gen- 
erally adepts at the minor arts that help to pass away the time, 
and to occupy otherwise idle fingers. Crochet, embroidery, wool 
work, sketching, or painting on china may not amount to much 
from a strictly utilitarian point of view, but they give an air of 
business, and are certainly graceful and ornamental makeshifts, 
and help to banish ennui and fill up spare moments. 

At last we were on the road again, and varied by interludes 
of cycling, we arrived at Weymouth, where we found the launch 
that speedily conveyed us to Portland harbor, where the “ Dora ” 
was anchored inside the breakwater that is constructed of huge 
granite blocks, fixed in their place by the labor of the convicts 
belonging to the great government penitentiary, situated on the 
neighboring promontory, or, as it is called, “ Portland Bill,” that 
is connected with the mainland by that natural curiosity Chisel 
Beach. In close proximity to our yacht lay a division of the 
Home Defence Squadron, with a complement of cruisers and 
torpedo boat destroyers. 

The whole train of autos was ordered to proceed to the neigh- 
borhood of Southampton, pitch the camp in the New Forest and 
await instructions. After lunch we all spent some time in perus- 
ing our mail and in writing necessary letters. We found a whole 
pile of visiting cards from officers of the Squadron. When we 
reassembled on deck Dora asked Captain Beattie to point out to 
her the “ Kent,” armored cruiser. 

“ Admiral Squally has left his cards,” said she, “ and I am 
going to invite him and his principal officers to dine with us to- 
night.” 

“ But my dear Dora,” said the Emperor, “ I am, as you know, 
arranging to give a big dinner party to the officers of the Squad- 
ron to-morrow evening, and of course the Admiral will receive 
his invitation along with the others.” 

“ But, Daddy,” replied Dora, “ don’t you remember what the 
captain of the ‘ Yorkshire ’ told us at Lundy, that the Admiral 


A Mashing Old Salt. 401 

is going up to town to-morrow and therefore couldn’t be pres- 
ent?” 

” It seems, dear,” said Jim, rather tartly, “ that you take a very 
great interest in this Admiral. You have owned up to having 
flirted with him in London.” 

“ Oh, Jim dear,” replied Dora laughing merrily, “ I am afraid 
it is a question of the green-eyed monster once more. You are 
jealous, my love. But remember that the man is sixty-four and 
as homely as a hat. Anyhow I mean to have my own way, and 
am going to call on the Admiral this afternoon. He is awfully 
nice and adores me,” and with an imperial air, she requested 
Captain Beattie to have the launch ready in an hour’s time to 
take her to the “ Kent.” 

“ Now, Jim,” said Dora, with a malicious smile, “ will you 
accompany me ? ” 

“ I don’t want to see the old buffer. But you can do as you 
like, dear,” replied her husband rather gruffly. 

“ Now don’t be cross, darling,” said our queen, “ it is so unlike 
you. But I dare say some of the others will escort me if you 
don’t.” 

I was the first to volunteer, the Rector being a good second, 
my wife, of course, expressing a wish to join the expedition. 
Annie Leighton and her fiance naturally preferred each other’s 
exclusive society, while the Emperor and the Canon elected to 
have a quiet time on board the yacht. 

I could see that Jim was slightly rattled. He was so wrapped 
up in Dora, that he would have felt inclined to be jealous of 
Methuselah himself if that antediluvian patriarch had been still 
around, and had betrayed symptoms of being mashed with his 
(Jim’s) wife, but I could not understand Dora’s motives for thus 
showing such a decided preference for this old fogy of an 
fVdmiral. 

At the appointed time, Dora and my wife appeared, clad in 
most bewitching toilets, rather too elaborate, I thought, for the 
occasion. When we were along side the “ Kent ” I was surprised 
to see that considerable preparations had been made for our 
reception. 

I learnt afterwards that immediately on our arrival, Dora had 
quietly directed our third officer to communicate by wireless teleg- 
raphy with the “ Kent ” to the effect that she (Dora) would call 
at a r^ecial time. 

26 


402 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

As we ascended the gangway of the fine ship of war, which 
appeared to be as comfortable as she is formidable (for which 
former reason, though one of the oldest vessels in the Squadron, 
she had been chosen as a flag-ship), we perceived the marines and 
a division of bluejackets drawn up in two lines, while the princi- 
pal officers were assembled in full uniform on the quarter-deck 
with Admiral Squally, a monkey-faced little old man, at their 
head. 

We were received with as much ceremony as if we had been 
a party of Royalties, and the Admiral seemed so pleased at the 
honor done to him, that he couldn’t say enough, and Dora was 
all smiles and sugar as she took his arm on a tour of inspection 
round the ship. Everything was as clean as a new pin and in 
apple-pie order, as is always the case on British and American 
ships of war. 

The crew of the fore 9.2 inch gun went through the process 
of loading with a dummy charge and discharging the weapon, 
the captain of the gun, a splendid specimen of manhood, evi- 
dently taking an immense pleasure in explaining the action of 
the deadly weapon to our queen. The same process was gone 
through with a six-inch quick-firer, and then with a Hotchkiss 
twelve-pounder. Afterwards we visited the men’s quarters, 
entered the galley and tasted the cocoa, peeped into the gun-room 
and the officers’ quarters, and finally brought up in the Admiral’s 
cabin, which was most tastefully decorated. We had tea, Dora 
officiating at the urn. Captain Beattie and the first lieutenant 
had been on the same ship together as midshipmen in the Medi- 
terranean, and we were all soon as thick as thieves. 

Admiral Squally has the reputation of being a tremendous 
martinet, and I was told when on the China Station almost stirred 
up a mutiny by his severity in stopping the men’s allowances and 
leave for the most trivial offenses, but now he was as mild as 
milk, and looked as if butter would hardly melt in his mouth, and 
semed to bask in Dora’s smiles just like a Florida mud-turtle 
in the full blaze of the midday sun. 

After leaving the “ Kent ” we visited the Admiral of the 
Squadron on board the “ King Edward,” first-class battle-ship, 
and returned to the yacht in time to dress for dinner. 

We found Jim a mixture of jealousy and repentance, and Dora, 
who was in overflowing spirits, bantered him on the attentions 
Admiral Squally had paid her. 


A Mashing Old Salt. 403 

“ Wait till you see him, you will say that you really have 
cause for jealousy. He is a perfect specimen of an old Apollo, 
isn’t he. Judge? ” said she appealing to me. 

‘ Well, if Apollo was like the Admiral,” I replied, all I can 
say is that the Greeks have strangely misrepresented the god of 
mashers in the statues they sculptured of him.” 

Jim didn’t quite catch on to the meaning of my observation, and 
went on puffing out huge volumes of smoke in solemn silence. 

Certainly if the Admiral had been the King of England, Mrs. 
Clark could not have taken more trouble with her toilet that 
evening. She wore a princess gown demi-trained of parma 
violet, satin draped with glorious rose point lace; she wore the 
sapphires and diamonds the old man had given her. She looked 
brilliant, talked brilliant, and in fact was superlatively brilliant, 
so we all thought, and so did the Admiral and his officers ; the 
former, seated at dinner on Dora’s right hand, seemed quite bewil- 
dered with the graciousness of his goddess’s demeanor to him, 
and his hands trembled, not with old age, but excitement, as he 
assisted to place on Dora’s lovely shoulders the long regal mantle 
of dark violet velvet, deeply trimmed with ermine, previous to her 
sortie on deck. 

Jim on first seeing the Admiral was evidently much relieved 
by the latter’s simian appearance, but during dinner I noticed 
that he gradually became more silent, as his potations got deeper. 
When we men had got through our wine and^had joined the 
ladies outside, the little Admiral, as a matter of course, seated 
himself by Dora’s side and carried on a long conversation with 
her in an inaudible undertone. I noticed that once she seemed 
as if imploring him for something, at another time she patted him 
on the back of his hand in a bantering sort of way with her 
closed fan, and finally I saw her furtively draw off one of her 
long pearl-gray, mosquetaire gloves, and quickly hand it to her 
companion. I seemed to hear the word “ Remember.” The 
Admiral nodded as he pouched the glove. 

Jim was by this time getting quite ugly, and I was in a mortal 
terror lest he might suddenly rise up and pitch the diminutive 
Admiral into the sea. However, nothing of such a terrible 
nature transpired, but I was immensely relieved when the officers 
of the “ Kent ” at length took their departure. 

I confess to being completely mystified. It was impossible that 
J)ora reallj^ cared for this homely little manikin. Was she de- 


404 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

liberately trying to stir up jealousy and strife? That seemed 
altogether foreign to her nature. I cross-examined my wife 
when we had retired for the night, but I found that Bella was 
just as much in the dark as myself. I came to the conclusion 
that Dora was playing with the Admiral for some deep purpose 
of her own. What that purpose was I couldn’t divine, though 
I cursed my stupidity afterwards, when we knew all. A child 
would have solved the puzzle. Detectives often fail and over- 
reach themselves, by assuming that their cases are much more 
complicated affairs than they appear at first sight to be. When 
the Admiral was gone, Dora, who had a triumphant expression 
on her face, sat down and indulged in a quiet laugh all to herself. 
Then she proceeded to try and exhaust all her wondrous powers 
of fascination on her husband and father-in-law, and partially 
succeeded in her object of mollifying them (for, to tell the truth, 
the Emperor was just as much put out by Dora’s philanderings 
as Jim). 

‘‘ But, Dora dear,” said the Canon apologetically, “ I can’t for 
the life of me understand what you see in this man-monkey, and 
besides you will drive the little fellow to distraction, and we shall 
see in the papers one morning, ‘ Dreadful Suicide of Rear-Admiral 
Squally, second in command of the Home Defence Fleet. Cause 
unknown. Possibly blighted affection, as a lady’s glove was 
found in his cabin bespattered with his blood, side by side with a 
loaded revolver, with one chamber discharged.’ ” 

“ Yes, Dora,” said Jim eagerly, “ I saw you give Squally one 
of your gloves. What did you do that for ? ” 

” I had to,” replied Dora, laughing, “ it was a case of a compro- 
mise. The Admiral struck his flag to me literally, and he is 
going to send it to me to-morrow, the battle-flag of old England 
white ground, with a red St. George’s cross, and I am going to 
give it to Captain Beattie to keep, and to bend it on to our mizzen- 
peak when I give him the office.” 

“ There, I knew Lady Incognita had a good reason for her 
flirtation,” said the Rector, laughing. 

“ That’s a cranky notion, darling,” said Jim. “ What an idea ! 
We can’t hoist that flag, it would damn me in the opinion of all 
yachting men. Only members of the R. Y. S. can fly Britain’s 
battle flag.” 

“ But you may be a member some day, Jim,” said Dora. 


A Mashing Old Salt. 405 

“No, I shan’t, I haven’t a ghost of a chance, and you know it. 
It’s beastly mean, Dora, to jolly me like this.” 

” Come along, Bella, we will leave the men to the consolation 
of whisky and tobacco,” said our queen, rising and shaking out 
her train. “ They do not understand us women, and I believe 
never will.” 

“ By the Lord, you are right,” said the Canon, laughing. 

“What’s all the trouble about?” said Dawlish, who had been 
so absorbed in his Annie’s society that he hadn’t noticed what 
had been transpiring elsewhere. 

“ Why, Mr. Clark and Jim are wild because Mrs. Clark has 
been mashing Admiral Squally. She gave up one of her gloves 
to him, and he is to give her a flag, and that’s all there’s to it,”' 
I replied. 

“ A monkey-parrot kind of business, eh, Jim ? ” said Dawlish,. 
giving the ex-cowboy a mighty slap between the shoulders with 
his open hand. 

“ Perhaps,” enigmatically observed the ex-cowboy, with a half 
sigh. 


4o6 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE ADMIRAL STRIKES HIS FLAG. 

July i6, Saturday. 

We occupied the morning in seeing the great Penitentiary and 
the famous Chisel Beach. On our return we lunched on board 
the “ King Edward,” and afterwards paid visits to several of the 
warships. Dora was in great spirits and didn’t seem to miss 
Admiral Squally, who went to town to-day. 

Just before dressing-time for dinner, a launch from the Kent ” 
ran along side the yacht, and a midshipman came on board and 
presented a parcel to Dora, on which was inscribed in large 
letters, “ With Admiral Squally’s compliments and best wishes.” 

Dora thanked the middy and requested him to sit down and 
have a whisky and soda, while she unfastened the bundle that 
contained a Royal Navy flag, which she handed over to Cap- 
tain Beattie, saying as she did so : 

“ We will unbend this to-morrow. Captain.” 

Captain Beattie received his country’s ensign with profound 
respect and replied: 

“ Your wishes are commands to me, Mrs. Clark.” 

The dinner was a grand success. All the old man’s gold plate 
was on view, and I felt proud that we were able to astonish the 
gallant English offlcers with a display of real culinary science, 
and how' they sucked down the Emperor’s peerless champagne. 
It did one’s heart good to see it. It was almost a stag party, 
our three fair ladies having to face the admiring glances of an 
Admiral and all the Post Captains, Commanders, First Lieuten- 
ants and Chief Engineers of the Starboard Division of the Home 
IDefense Fleet, but then Dora was a host in herself, looking a 
picture of beauty, in cream white satin and point lace, with the 
glorious diamonds that had cost 100,000 pounds to purchase, 
and eight human lives to retain, with the Admiral of the Fleet on 
her right hand and the Senior Post Captain on her left. 


The Admiral Strikes His Flag. 407 

After the patriotic and international toasts had been duly 
honored, the Admiral proposed in a bluff, sailorly fashion the 
health of the Queen of the Fleet, “ with three times three and 
one cheer more and no heeltaps, gentlemen, and don’t forget to 
break your glasses afterward,” roared the Captain of the “ Kent.” 

Every man was on his legs in an instant, and the volley of 
cheers must have been heard on board the neighboring warships, 
as each man emptied his glass and dashed it in pieces on the 
table. Such spontaneous enthusiasm I never witnessed, and a 
proud smile of exultation lighted up Jim’s face. He forgot for 
the moment all about Squally, every consideration being swal- 
lowed up in the proud consciousness of his darling’s triumph. 

The Emperor, too, was delirious with excitement, and as for 
Dora, all the society successes gained by her during the past 
season rolled into one did not, I am sure, equal for pure delight 
this one supreme and convincing proof of her hypnotic sway 
over the hearts of these British sea lions. Poor Jim, little accus- 
tomed to public speaking, had of course to respond for his wife, 
and in spite of evident nervousness, performed better than I 
had expected, his voice (strange to say) almost quivering with 
suppressed emotion. 

When we were all assembled on the deck the sight that met 
our view was an entrancing one. It was a perfect summer night, 
the stars shone bright, and the great searchlights from the war- 
ships crossed and recrossed each other in all directions, and soared 
up to an amazing height, as if wishing to pierce the azure empy- 
rean itself, while the yacht was surrounded by the launches and 
rowboats of the Fleet. 

The “ Dora ” was illuminated from stern to stern. The Ad- 
miral whispered a few words in the ear of Captain Beattie, who in 
his turn spoke in low tones to our first officer, who quietly retired, 
and then, as if by magic, two great beams of electric light soared 
up from amidships of the yacht and commenced wobbling to and 
fro, as if endeavoring to write some mysterious characters on 
the sky. When these gyrations ceased suddenly, as if guided by 
one unseen hand, the searchlights from each battleship, cruiser 
and destroyer began to move in harmonious rhythmic manner, 
and then burst our from each vessel, commencing from the flag- 
ship, rounds of tremendous cheers that found echoes in the blufif 
commanding heights of Portland Hill, and were taken up by the 
crews of the surrounding boats. 


4o8 a 2oth Century Cinderella. 

What is the meaning, Admiral, of these wobbling search- 
lights and of this cheering ? ” said Dora. “ Is it the anniversary 
of some great naval victory ? ” 

“ This demonstration is in honor of the victory the fair lady 
who is sitting next to me has gained over British hearts. The 
signal the ‘ Dora ’ has just despatched was: 

“ ‘ The two Doras salute the Squadron,’ and the reply was : 

“ ‘ Success and happiness to the Queen of the Fleet,’ ” and the 
Admiral rose and bowed low amid general hand-clapping and 
ones of “ bravo bravissimo ” from all the crowd. 

I could see that Dora was visibly affected by this tremendous 
ovation. Her thoughts at this moment must have reverted to the 
period so short a time ago, when she was a poor, trampled on, 
despised orphan girl, and now she was sitting here the recipient 
of as grand a compliment as ever had been paid to mortal woman. 
No wonder that the tears welled in her eyes, and her voice 
trembled as she earnestly thanked the courtly Admiral. 

Well, all things have an end, and our guests at length departed 
to their several floating homes, and we not unwillingly sought 
our staterooms. 

I learnt afterwards that the Emperor had in no small measure 
contributed to this display of spontaneous enthusiasm, by quietly, 
in the course of the afternoon, despatching munificent presents of 
champagne and cigars to the officers of the warships, accom- 
panied by checks to provide banquets and tobacco for all the 
crews. He had done this in Dora’s name, as if the gift had 
proceded from her initative. An act of self-effacing adoration 
on his (the Emperor’s) part that was really remarkable. I learned 
this from Captain Beattie, who made me promise to preserve the 
secret. 


The Rape Of The Lock. 


409 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 

July 17, Sunday. 

It was 8.30 a. m. this morning before I arrived on deck. It 
is seldom that I am so unmatutinal, but I stayed up beyond my 
usual time last night in order to write up my diary, the entries 
of which had fallen somewhat in arrear. I found that all 
the members of our party had preceded me, and I was greeted 
by such salutations as, “ Good morning. Judge, bully for you,” 

Here’s the early riser,” “ What price worms, you old humbug? ” 
etc., etc. The scene that greeted my eyes was indeed a lovely 
one. The “ Dora ” was riding at anchor just opposite the Club 
House of the Yacht Squadron at Cowes. Southampton Water 
with its well-wooded left bank stretched away to the north, the 
Isle of Wight and its variegated coast line appearing to the south, 
with the houses of the little town of Cowes huddled together in 
picturesque confusion at the mouth of the Medina River. Around 
us were many yachts great and small, chiefly cutters and yawls, 
with a schooner or two thrown in here and there. The Solent 
was as calm as an inland lake, an air of restful quietude pervaded 
the whole scene, only occasionally broken by the rhythmic sound 
of oars against rullocks as some yacht’s boat plied to or from the 
shore. The members of our party (with one exception) were 
grouped together chatting gaily, awaiting the sound of the break- 
fast gong, ever welcome to those on shipboard, who do not 
happen to be troubled with the qualms of seasickness. The ex- 
ception referred to was friend Jim, who was standing apart from 
the others, gazing moodily at the mirror-like surface of the sur- 
rounding water. I could see at a glance that he was not himself, 
so I approached and slapped him on the back, saying as I did 
so, “ Brace up, old man, what’s the matter with you this glorious 
morning? You look as if the champagne you drank last night has 
touched up your liver. Let me recommend a seidlitz powder,” 


410 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

“ My liver’s all right, Judge, thank you,” replied our hero, 
rather wearily, “ but between you and me, I feel worried about 
Dora, and that infernal little Admiral of hers. I dare say you 
will think me a rotten fool for harboring such ornary ideas, but 
I can’t help it. What is your opinion. Judge? Do you really sup- 
pose that there is anything serious betwen them. I tell you 
straight, if I thought so, I would shoot him at sight, and put a 
bullet through my own head afterwards.” 

“ My dear Jim,” I replied, “ you must be downright crazy ! 
How can you, how dare you entertain the slightest suspicion of 
the truth and honor of your dear, sweet wife ? She is the soul of 
purity itself. I really am ashamed of you, Jim. I shall change 
my opinion of you if you say such things.” I felt obliged to 
speak roughly to our hero, and bring him sharply up to the wind 
(as yachtmen say). 

“ But then, how do you account for her flirting with Squally 
in town, and then carrying on as she has been doing? Do you 
know. Judge, she had a wire from him last night before we left 
Portland, which she refused to show me? What do you think of 
that, eh? And then that business of the ensign, for what pur- 
pose did she accept that from him. A married woman receiving 
presents from a man who is not her husband, is that good form ? ” 

“ Oh, ah, Jim, that’s coming it strong. A gift like a flag can 
only be considered as a souvenir, it isn’t like jewelry and such 
like truck,” said I, trying to smooth matters as well as I could. 

At that moment Jim raised his eyes aloft and exclaimed : “ Why 
by the Holy ! There is the identical flag unbent at the mizzen- 
peak. It is too bad. I shall be the laughing-stock of all the 
men in the club house. I will go and order Beattie to haul it 
down again.” 

At that moment Dora came up, looking like a perfect human 
peach in a ravishing toilet of white serge and gold. She seemed 
in the highest spirits, and said: 

“You are just the man I wanted to see. Judge. My husband 
has been so cross to me, that I had a good cry this morning, and 
am afraid that my eyes are all red and nasty. I am one of those 
women weeping doesn’t suit. It’s all about that poor old chap. 
Admiral Squally. Really, Jim is so jealous that he will have 
to take me about in a glass case gagged and bound. Do you 
think I look nice. Judge? ” said the lovely creature. “ I will wear 
a spotted white veil so that people shan’t see my red eyes, the 


The Rape Of The Lock. 41 1 

result of Jim’s unkindness. We are going on the Club Lawn 
after church parade. You will come with me, Jim, won’t you? ” 
said she, giving her husband a sly look from under the long lashes 
of her violet eyes that would have lured St. Simon Stylites him- 
self from off his pillar. 

** How can we go there, my darling?” replied her husband, 
whose fit of sulks was obviously evaporating under the influence 
of her witching manner. “ I am not a member and never will be. 
ril bet a thousand dollars to one that I have been black-balled.” 

“ ril take you, Jim,” replied Dora, gaily. 

At that moment a servant came up with the mail, which had 
just arrived, and handed a letter to Jim, which I could see had 
R. Y. S. engraved in red letters on the envelope. Jim opened the 
missive and perused it with a bewildered air, and then gave a 
wild Indian war-whoop and shouted : 

“ I’m elected ! I’m elected ! See, Judge, read the letter ! ” All 
the members of our party with the ship’s officers come crowding 
around on hearing Jim’s excited exclamation, and for the benefit 
of the crowd I read the letter aloud. It was very much to the 
point : 

Dear Sir : 

“ I have to announce to you that at the annual meeting of the 
Committee of the Royal Yacht Squadron held to-day, at Boodles 
Club, St. James’s Street, for the purpose of election of members 
and for general business, you were duly elected. The entrance 
fee is fifty pounds and the annual subscription is ten pounds. I 
shall be obliged by your forwarding a check for the amount 
(sixty pounds) directed to me at the R. Y. S. Club House, Cowes, 
1. W. 

I remain, sir. 

Your obedient servant, 

S. Galloway 
(Secretary to the R. Y. S.). 

James Clark, Esq., S. Y. ‘Dora,’ Cowes, I. W.” 

For a moment there was a silence, then a volley of congratula- 
tions followed, the Emperor’s voice being heard the loudest. 

“ But for land’s sake,” cried Jim, “ how did it all come about? 
I thought that Admiral Squally black-balled nearly all the candi- 


412 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

dates.” Then observing a smile on Dora’s face, a light seemed to 
break in upon him, and he cried : 

“ It is your doing, my darling Dora ! You sweet, clever witch. 
I see it all now ; you were fooling the old man all the time. Oh, 
what a darned thick-headed numskull I have been. Come, Judge, 
come all of you and kick me as hard as you can. I don’t deserve 
such a glorious wife. Will you forgive me, darling?” cried he, 
falling on his knees on the deck, regardless of our presence, and 
seizing Dora’s hand in his, covering it with kisses. 

“ There’s nothing to forgive, my dearest,” said Dora, stooping 
down and kissing her repentant husband, ‘‘ but I am to blame for 
carying the farce too far. I ought to have showed you the tele- 
gram from the Admiral. Here it is, love, and don’t rumple your 
new, white, duck trousers, by kneeling on the deck, though I 
must say it is clean enough to eat one’s breakfast off.” Jim arose 
and read the despatch out loud. It was as follows : 

“ From Admiral Squally, Boodles Club, London, S. W. 

To Mrs. James Clark, S. Y. ‘ Dora,’ Portland, Dorset. 

“ Your husband is unanimously elected, through influence of 
me and my friends. Am coming to claim reward. 

“ And what reward did you promise him? ” said Jim, anxiously. 

“ A single tress of what you admire so much and are always 
pulling down, and putting my maid to a whole heap of trouble 
to arrange again, namely, my hair,” replied Dora, saucily. ‘‘ The 
Admiral wasn’t content with the glove, so I had to promise him 
this. Come, Annie,” continued she^ “ you’ve got some scissors, 
for you are always doing embroidery, while eternally discussing 
the state of the weather or of your heart with Captain Dawlish, 
and please cut off quite a nice piece. I will enclose it with a 
pretty little note of thanks, and leave it at the club house to-day.” 

Annie was advancing to play the part of executioner to a 
tress of the said hair, when Jim exclaimed : 

You mustn’t do it, Annie, every hair is worth a thousand 
dollars to me.” 

But she must, Jim,” said Dora, “ so be quiet. That reminds 
me, dear, that you owe me exactly the value you attach to a 
single thread of my great red mop, so pay up at once, sir, and 
look pleasant.” 

The haircutting was performed with great ceremony amid 


The Rape Of The Lock. 413 

general laughter, while Jim gave the hair and face of the woman 
he adored so many rapid fire kisses, that the bltlshing lady had 
to tell him to stop. 

“ Now ladies and gentlemen,’' said Jim, let’s drink to the 
flag in the open air right under where it is waving. That was 
awfully cunning of you, Dora, to make old Squally give it to 
you. It is government property, and it makes my boat a man-of- 
war, I guess.” 

“ And your wife a woman of peace,” said the Rector, 
Blessed are the peacemakers,” added the ecclesiastic, solemnly, 
‘‘ and my blessing on both of you,” and he raised his hands bishop- 
like, over the heads of the happy pair who were standing lover- 
like in our midst, Jim’s strong right arm round Dora’s waist, 
and her head reclining on his shoulder. 

Not only did we rapturously toast the two Doras, but Jim 
insisted on making the ceremony an imposing one, by saluting the 
flag with eighteen rounds of blank ammunition from our quick- 
firers, causing, thereby, considerable curiosity among the good 
people of Cowes. After breakfast, we all went ashore and 
strolled about till church time, and Jim said that he had never 
been in such a goody-goody frame of mind before, and his feel- 
ing of thankfulness bore visible fruit in the shape of a check 
for a very substantial sum that he deposited on the plate when the 
collection was taken up. We took our turn on the green by the 
sea after service, as the ladies had to show off their toilets, and 
then we proved the truth of Dora’s prophecy, by entering in a 
body the sacred precincts of the Royal Yacht Squadron. We 
found our coming had not been unexpected, and quite a few of 
the members whose acquaintance we had made in town hastened 
to offer their congratulations. It was quite certain that Jim was 
a grand addition to the club. Not only had he perhaps the finest 
steam yacht afloat, and one of the most beautiful and clever of 
women as his wife, but he was the son and heir of one of the 
wealthiest men in the world, a man who had already won a great 
reputation as a Lucullus-like entertainer; in whose hands, there- 
fore, the reputation of the club for hospitality would be absolutely 
safe. Besides Jim was known (though a bit of a wild westerner) 
to be a thorough good fellow and sportsman,’ every inch of him, 
and moreover the old Chinese wall of aristocratic exclusiveness 
had long ago been broken down, and red gold counts for more 
than blue blood nowadays. But the latter was not lacking, for 


414 ^ 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Dora came of patrician stock, so the Clark combination was very 
strong. 

As the members of our party were standing or sitting on the 
club lawn, we were the observed of all observers, for since our 
arrival, hadn’t every individual in Cowes, either through tele- 
scopes or field-glasses, or by aid of unassisted vision, been ex- 
amining and admiring the great steam yacht that had taken up 
her moorings so quietly at five o’clock that morning. And hadn’t 
every one heard all about the Clarks, their wealth, romantic story, 
and of the wiping out of the bandits, and how they had taken 
London society by storm, and had just completed quite a unique 
tour on the most extraordinary set of autos ever constructed, and 
of course every one knew by this time of Jim’s election. News 
travels apace in a small town like Cowes, if the “ Dora’s ” guns 
and the hoisting of the white ensign had not already told their 
own tale. Though the creme de la crane of society had not 
appeared on the scene yet, but were preparing to taste the pleas- 
ures of glorious Goodwood before seeking the refreshing breezes 
of the Solent, still there was a strong contingent of yachtsmen and 
their families who preferred the sea water to the turf, and these, 
with the usual crowd of summer tourists, made such a press as 
soon blocked the narrow walk in front of the club house, every 
one being eager to catch a glance at the famous beauty, her 
husband and father-in-law. 

While we were sitting in comfort watching the abortive efforts 
of a solitary policeman to persuade the well-dressed crowd to 
move on, who should appear on the scene but Admiral Squally, 
evidently duly filled with a sense of his own importance. He 
saluted with a highly impresse air the ladies, and more especially 
Dora. 

Did you get my note. Admiral ? ” said our queen, laughing 
merrily. “ I hope you are satisfied with the enclosure. It was as 
much as I dare give you.” Of course to all the bystanders, apart 
from our own crowd, this was all Hebrew. 

“ I shall only part with the said enclosure with my life,” said 
the Admiral, gallantly, as he, with a great flourish, made another 
profound obeisance. “ I am proud as an old member to welcome 
you, sir,” (addressing Jim) ” to our club. I trust you will add to 
its luster by your victories, as your charming wife will embellish 
it by her beauty and attractiveness.” 

Jim laughed at the elaborate nature of the little man’s compU- 


415 


The Rape Of The Lock. 

ment, shook hands with him and was introduced on the spot to 
some of his cronies, the result being that a whole batch of club 
members accompanied us back to the yacht to partake of lunch. 
Jim was soon hand in glove with Squally, who is a good little 
chap, though possessed of the fond delusion so many diminutive 
men entertain that every fine woman he comes across naturally 
falls in love with him. Squally, to hear him talk, is a terrible fel- 
low among the women, but his bark is worse than his bite, and he 
has never seriously endangered the matrimonial felicity of any 
couple. His society lady friends are in the habit of playing all 
sorts of games upon him, and of making him believe that they 
are severally and collectively head over ears in love with him. 
His rape of Dora’s lock was a triumph that completely satisfied 
his ambition. There was high wassail on board the “ Dora ” and 
our band played a selection of semi-religious tunes on deck after 
lunch. 

During the afternoon the Emperor had a square talk with 
Dawlish and me, and informed us that he had received a most 
courteous letter from the Duke of Richmond and Gordon (be- 
tween whom and the Clarks there had been an interchange of hos- 
pitalities during the late London season), saying that he (the 
Duke) would locate us a site for our camp in his park during the 
forthcoming Goodwood races, if it would be a convenience, and 
the Emperor said, moreover, that he had replied to his Grace’s 
letter, accepting his kind invitation, and he (the Emperor) re- 
quested Dawlish to accompany the autos in order to see that a 
good camping ground was selected. The Emperor also said that 
on Friday evening, after the conclusion of the races, we were to 
proceed straight to a private park three miles from Canterbury 

belonging to Mr. , where our camp was to be pitched, and 

that on the next day (Saturday) we were to make a public entry 
into the city, where we were ‘to be received in state by the Dean 
and Chapter and Mayor and Corporation, and the Emperor also 
went on to say that he had donated 250,000 pounds each to the 
Cathedral and the city. The former sum was to provide funds 
for completing the restoration of the Cathedral and the balance 
was to be invested in the names of the Dean and Chapter for the 
time being, the income being devoted towards keeping the Ca- 
thedral in repair and for the maintenance of the choir, and lastly, 
for providing scholarships for giving a free musical and general 
education, together with board and lodging for those boys who 


4i6 a 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

were selected on account of the excellence of their voices. The 
other 250,000 pounds was devoted to various secular purposes, 
one of the chief of which is the purchase of a public park for the 
citizens of the city of Canterbury, in which park are to be pro- 
vided facilities for all manner of sports, athletics, cricket, foot- 
ball, etc., with a pavilion and provision for the support of three 
ground men, and once a year there is to be a benefactor’s day in 
the park, a grand fete, sports, fireworks, and public feasting. 
There were also generous gifts for the county cricket club and the 
local hospital. A fund was instituted, the income of which was 
to go towards founding pensions for worthy reduced citizens, 
and for assisting others who had fallen on evil times to tide over 
their misfortunes till they were (to use a technical term) once 
more on an even keel. Technical schools were to be established 
with scholarships for clever, aspiring youths. A fund was also 
set apart for giving coals, blankets, and substantial meals in win- 
ter to the poor, for the establishment and maintenance of free 
baths, and lastly a considerable amount was granted to the munici- 
pality to assist the Mayor and Corporation in publicly displaying 
hospitality during the cricket week and on other notable occasions. 

It appears that the Emperor, before leaving town, had gone 
with the Canon pretty minutely into the matter, and had also paid 
several flying visits to Canterbury to consult with the Dean and 
the Mayor, and I feel sure that the money could not have been 
better expended. It will be noticed that there is no mention of a 
public library in the list of benefactions. The fact is the Em- 
peror was dissuaded from applying, or rather misapplying, any 
portion of the funds in this way, it having been conclusively es- 
tablished by exhaustive statistical examination that free libraries 
are chiefly used by an idle section of the public for loafing, novel 
reading, and as places of assignation for members of the two 
sexes. That they practically are neglected by the working classes 
and altogether fail in achieving results solid enough to justify 
the outlay. 

The Emperor having finished his explanation of the way he had 
so substantially benefited the Cathedral and city of Canterbury, 
proceeded to unfold the program of our doings during the 
fall. On leaving Canterbury, we were to board the yacht at 
Dover the following week and return to Cowes for the regatta, 
after which we were once more to revisit Canterbury and witness 
the marriage in the Cathedral of Dawlish and Annie Leighton^ 


417 


The Rape Of The Lock, 

and having seen the happy pair started on their honeymoon, the 
remainder of our party were to spend a fortnight at Ostend and 
Homburg, then rejoining the “ Dora ” at Dover, we were to 
wend our way to Scotland to shoot the whirring grouse, lay low 
the antlered monarch of the glen, entrap the silvery salmon and 
await on the Emperor's recently acquired property the return of 
the honeymooners. Then later on to visit London, Brighton, 
New York and 'Frisco. The old man seemed to take a great 
pleasure in detailing all these various arrangements, and he poked 
a lot of fun at Dawlish while talking. He seemed in a very happy 
frame of mind. He was aware of the great uncertainty of human 
life, and that none of us can really count at all on the future ; but, 
as he himself said, “ I have no cause for worry or anxiety. I have 
made all necessary dispositions of my property by will and other- 
wise. My affairs are in excellent shape, my life is in the keeping 
of God, I enjoy every day as it comes and try to do some good in 
my generation. I hope to live to see my grandchildren playing 
around me, but if I don't I guess that it won't make much differ- 
ence to them. We cannot always command good fortune, but we 
can act so as to deserve it. The main thing is not to worry, for, 
as my sister Keziah always says, it was worry that killed the cat." 
This conversation gave me (if it were possible) a higher opinion 
of the Emperor than I had had before. He is a right kind of phi- 
losopher. Great wealth couldn't have fallen into better hands. 

July i8, Monday. 

We took a quick steam to Cherbourg and back, the yacht oc- 
casionally doing as much as twenty-nine knots, to the surprise of 
Admiral Squally and other naval experts on board. We did not 
see so very much of the ladies ; they were busy selecting and fix- 
ing up their Goodwood frocks. Dora had another motive for re- 
maining perdu; she wished to escape the attentions of the little 
Admiral. He bored her, and she had no further use for him, 
having got all she needed out of him. 

On our return from the French coast we steamed up South- 
ampton Water, had dinner on boad, and then, bidding temporary 
adieu to the yacht, landed, mounted the auto Coach and enjoyed 
a delightful ride to Goodwood Park, where we found the camp 
had been pitched in a delightful location. The “ Dora," after 
leaving the remainder of her passengers, such as the Admiral and 
his friends, at Cowes, had orders to proceed to Dover, anchor in 
the safety harbor and await orders there. 

27 


4i8 


A 2oth Century Cinderella, 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE YANKS SKIN THE BOOKIES. 

July 19, Tuesday. 

It would be superfluous to describe the glories of Goodwood. 
It is a pretty hackneyed subject, I guess, but if any one fails to 
be impressed by the said glories, the unimpressed one must indeed 
be a strange, unimpressionable individual. 

We were saved that weary ride up the hill each day, and so 
avoided being choked by dust or coated in mud, as our camp was 
pitched in the southern section of the park. 

By the Emperor’s orders, the Coach, Boudoir and Smoker were 
placed side by side nearly opposite the winning post. By special 
permission, the Kitchen Car and the Wagon were allowed to be 
stationed in rear of the lawn. We had an immense picnic party 
to lunch. A hot lunch is, I believe, a novelty on an English race 
track, and fairly astonished the Britishers. The Duke of Rich- 
mond and Gordon and all his house party lunched with us, and 
afterwards inspected the Kitchen Car and the Wagon. We had, 
of course, tickets for the Royal enclosure and spent a good deal 
of the time there or in the paddock. 

Occasionally, with our numerous friends, crossing the race 
track and mounting the cars in order to get a better view of the 
course, I found myself making frequent visits to the general 
ring in order to transact certain betting business on my own ac- 
count and on that of our ladies with a trusty bookmaker, a member 
of Tattersall’s, to whom I had been introduced by Jim, and who 
managed to get away with quite a lot of our money, since, whether 
it was owing to my ill-luck or faulty information, I only spotted 
the winner once during the day, and that was a two to one on 
chance. However, we all put in a great time. 

There’s a fascination about Goodwood very nearly equal to 
that appertaining to Henley. They are both unique gatherings 
in their respective ways. Goodwood is an Ascot in miniature, 


The Yanks Skin The Bookies. 


419 

but it isn’t so crowded as the latter and more resembles a big 
picnic. 

Patriotic as I am, I fear I am becoming fatally imbued with 
the dread that a perpetual exile in England would not break my 
heart, as I used to think it would. 

We dined at Goodwood House, and a most brilliant affair it 
was. There are, among other guests, two Royalties staying with 
the Duke for the week. The Emperor has invited the whole 
outfit to dine with us in camp on Thursday and breakfast to- 
morrow. He is trying now to put on a haughty, blase air and to 
play the aristocrat, but occasionally makes a big break and the 
bottom falls out of the whole business. 

Jim and Dora chaff him unmercifully in private, but that 
doesn’t phase the old man, who, I shouldn’t be surprised, will 
try and marry some dowager Duchess some day, if he gets a 
chance. 


July 20, Wednesday. 

The breakfast party was an immense success. All our guests 
were charmed with the camp and the autos. The Duke is going 
to order a coach like ours, and he was simply fascinated with the 
Kitchen Car and Wagon. What a thing it is to be members of 
the ultra-smart set and to be on familiar terms with Dukes, and 
in a more modified sense with Royalties. If any woman could be 
said to be in a heavenly state of contentment that woman is 
Bella. 

Little did we think a year ago, when living in comparative ob- 
scurity in Strawberry Villa, Yonkers, what glories awaited us, 
and it is all directly traceable to our Dora getting lost and having 
to be advertised for. 

I wasn’t much more lucky in my betting ventures to-day. 
What tarnation short odds these English bookies give ! 

Jim sprung a surprise on us to-day by telling us that he had a 
colt entered for the Cup, a genuine American thoroughbred. Of 
course, talking of thoroughbreds, the English and American stud- 
books are a kind of joint-stock affairs, the names of the ancestors 
of all our pure-bred running horses being found in the former 
volume. 

We all started in to back Jim’s horse. Woolly West. We 
got a pretty good price at the outset, namely, 7 to i. The colt 
evidently was not much fancied, Lord Lonsdale’s beautiful mare. 


420 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Bridecake, the winner of the Oaks, being first favorite at even 
money. 

I was lucky in getting on at the long price, as very soon it was 
evident that there was a big commission in the market to back 
Woolly West, as the price during the day gradually shortened 
until it finished at three to one, and even at that low figure the 
bookies looked shy and talked about five to two. The fact is, not 
only Jim, but the Emperor and all our push, including the Ducal 
party, had been planking it down on the strength of the colt hav- 
ing done an excellent trial. 

Our camp was literally besieged by hundreds of people wishing 
to see our wonderful outfit. But the Emperor had taken the 
precaution to have the whole camp enclosed with barbed wire 
and guarded by police, and made a charge of five shillings for 
each permission to view it, the money thus acquired being given 
to the cottage hospital at the neighboring city of Chichester, 
otherwise the camp would have been invaded by toughs and dead- 
beats and partially pillaged. 


July 21, Thursday. 

This has been a notable day in every respect. The weather con- 
tinued to be most brilliantly fine. As we entered the Royal en- 
closure, Dora’s appearance, as she leaned on the arm of the Duke 
of Richmond, caused a veritable buzz of genuine admiration. 
Her dress, of course, had been made just for this occasion, and 
was a confection of cream white foulard and Duchess point lace. 
Annie wore an exquisite costume of white crepe de chine, while 
my wife sported white batiste on pearl gray taffeta. 

As on the two preceding days, we were invited to visit the Royal 
box. Jim was all excitement. It was currently 'reported that 
Bridecake had hit her off fore leg in the stable, and possibly 
might not run, consequently the odds laid against Woolly West 
grew shorter and shorter, and it looked as if he would start first 
favorite. Still his owner and his owner’s father kept piling it on 
till between them they had fairly exhausted the market. It was a 
case of sheer weight of capital. Many of the leading bookmakers 
refused to lay any more against the colt. All our party were so 
excited that we fairly neglected the minor races ; even the ladies 
ceased to criticise each other’s frocks, and bent their pretty faces 
over their betting books and kept sending their cavaliers into the 
ring to put a bit more on. 


The Yanks Skin The Bookies. 


421 


With feminine want of logic, they could not understand why 
it was that the odds against our colt kept shortening. The fair 
Annie was bitten with the fever, and just before lunch time she 
triumphantly told a crowd of her lady friends that she had just 
backed the colt to win a further 400 pounds at the odds of 4 to i. 
Her friends couldn’t understand this almost crazy liberality on 
the part of the bookmaker, and I myself was so curious that I 
interrogated Dawlish, and found that the fond lover, who had 
been entrusted with the commission, hadn’t been near the ring 
at all, but had laid the odds himself in order to please his fiancee. 

It is impossible to say how many people lunched with us on 
the lawn, but it seemed to me as if half the House of Lords were 
present at one time or another, though perhaps I may have 
(owing to the heat or the Emperor’s champagne) counted twice. 

After the big-bugs had satisfied the cravings of hunger and 
thirst room was found for the smaller fry, who made great was- 
sail and drank freely to the wished-for success of Woolly West. 
About this time I perceived a familiar figure standing under the 
trees, and recognized my friend Simpson, the reporter of the 
New York Journal, faultlessly attired in a well-fitting gray frock 
coat and white hat, with a pair of field-glasses in a sling. Leav- 
ing Bella with her friends, I approached the reporter and said : 

“ Hello, Simpson, what brings you over here? You look happy 
and prosperous.” 

“ Thank you. Judge, I am both. You are just the man I was 
looking for. I was sent over by the Journal to write up an ac- 
count of Mr. Clark’s train of autos. New York City is burning to 
know all about them. Perhaps you can help me ? I guess I didn’t 
like to interview the boss, he is such a swell now. See, he is talk- 
ing to the King as if the latter were his bosom friend. Hurrah 
for aluminum ! Besides you can give me a tip for the cup. I 
have backed Woolly West. Is he going to win, eh. Judge?” 

“ Come right along, Simpson, and have some lunch first,” re- 
plied I. “ As to the cars, meet me at the camp to-morrow morn- 
ing quite early and I will show you round myself. Here is a 
special ticket of admission. The Emperor has hit the bull’s eye, 
or rather Mrs. Clark, alias our hired girl, has. You remember 
your interview with me at Strawberry Villa, I suppose ? ” 

“ Great Scott ! I guess I shan’t ever forget it,” replied Simp- 
son. “ But how about the cup? ” 

“ Oh, our colt will win, at least Jim Clark says so. We all 


422 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

stand to rake in a pile,” and he led Simpson to the lunch 
table. 

“ Great Caesar ! That’s elegant wine,” said the thirsty re- 
porter, draining a tumbler of Pommery of 1912. “ No wonder 

the boss is perhaps the most popular man in England, but what a 
splurge you people are making over here ! ” 

” Well, Simpson, we are doing all right. I will to-morrow lend 
you my diary of our late tour. It may help you to write up your 
account for the Journal, but I must hurry away now to the pad- 
dock to see the cup horses saddled, so I must leave you to eat and 
drink at your sweet will. So long.” 

“ Just a moment. Judge,” replied Simpson. “ Let me drink 
your health. You have made my fortune and have showed your- 
self to be the best friend a man ever had in this world,” and the 
reporter gripped my hand in a way that showed me that he 
meant what he said. 

I thanked him and lit out for the paddock in time to see the 
string of cup horses led round by their trainers. I noticed that 
Bridecake wore a bandage round her off fore fetlock, but she 
moved with springy step and evinced no sign of lameness. 

Woolly West showed up grandly. He is a bright bay with 
white points, fully 17 hands high, with powerful shoulders and 
hind quarters that gave him the appearance of a weight-carrying 
hunter. He bore his little American jockey like a feather and 
seemed in the pink of condition. The English trainer, Dawson, 
of Newmarket, evidently knows his business. Having seen the 
horses, our party, which included the Duke of Richmond, his 
guests and others, made its way across the track to where our 
three autos were stationed side by side, and we climbed on the 
lofty roofs, from which we obtained an excellent view of the 
whole track. It was a truly beautiful scene that greeted our eyes. 
Facing us was the Royal enclosure, lower down the grand stand 
and lawn, and beyond them the line of booths of the bettino- 
list people, displaying as a whole the various strata of English so- 
ciety, from Royalty downwards. 

On our side of the track was a continuous line of coaches, car- 
riages, buggies, wagons, etc. Stretching away to the distance 
behind us was a motley array of lunch tents, caravans and every 
imaginable kind of side show, while beyond we could make out 
across the green sward the race track, till it disappeared out of 
sight among the trees, and further still the grand park and well- 


The Yanks Skin The Bookies. 


423 


wooded countryside in the full beauty of their summer garb 
stretching away in gentle undulations, and like a frame to the 
picture glanced the bright waters of the Solent. 

It was a witching spectacle of a section of a noble country. 
No wonder Englishmen have fought so well for such a land, and 
will fight again if called upon to do so. 

A tumultuous noise from the ring went up like the roar of a 
panic-stricken open air stock exchange, as the horses, five in num- 
ber, took their preliminary canter preparatory to wending their 
way to the starting post, far up the course. Just then Dora ex- 
claimed : 

“ Oh, Jim, there is the gipsy woman whom Bella and I helped 
to fool poor Annie in the New Forest. Give her a fiver for luck, 
there’s a dear.” 

Jim hurriedly obeyed the behest of his fair spouse, while Annie 
cried : 

“ Oh, Dora, so it was a fake game all the time. How mean of 
you, but it doesn’t matter, dear, does it ? ” and she looked up at 
Dawlish in a pretty, coquettish manner. 

I did not catch the response the gallant Captain vouchsafed, 
as it was made in a whisper. My eyes were by this time glued 
to my field-glasses watching the shifting colors of the jockeys, 
as they began to prepare for the race. After two false starts, a 
great shout “ They are off ! ” sounded from all sides, and the 
steeds had been despatched on their long three-mile journey. I 
felt my heart beating as the contestants entered the straight. 
They had to pass the winning post and go round the entire 
course. As they swept by us Sordello, Lord Falmouth’s repre- 
sentative, a big chestnut horse with a raking stride, was leading, 
four lengths in front of Bridecake, who seemed going easily with- 
in herself, two length in advance of our colt, who was pulling 
double, the other two close up. There was silence now among 
the vast assembly as the horses continued their career in the 
above-named order, till momentarily lost to view by the dip in 
the course. When they appeared again Sordello was losing 
ground, but Woolly West was still about two lengths behind 
Bridecake. At the distance Sordello had shot his bolt and was 
passed by Bridecake, who for a moment looked all over a winner, 
but only for a moment, for half-way up the straight the mare’s 
jockey was seen to be hard at work on her with whip and spur, 
and the long, lean head of Woolly West next to the rails was 


424 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

stealing up to her girths. The gallant mare, called on by her 
jockey for one last supreme effort, did all she could. She had 
never known what it was to suffer defeat, it must have seemed so 
strange to her dazed mind. It was all in vain, for Woolly West, 
going great guns, untouched by whip or spur, drew up level, 
and running very strongly, passed the post a winner by nearly 
half a length, amid a scene of wild enthusiasm. Up in the air 
went the Emperor's and Jim's new Lincoln and Bennett tiles, 
while cheer after cheer arose amid a scene of uproar. But from 
those two dense groups of men who thronged the enclosures al- 
lotted to members of Tattersall's and to the ready money book- 
makers came no applause, for the ring had been heavily hit by the 
victory of Woolly West. There was only one loser in our crowd. 
That was Dawlish, but he got full value for the two monkeys 
( 1,000 pounds) he had lost to his ladye love in the shape of 
smiles and kisses. 

Jim was the proudest man in all England as he led his colt 
to the weighing enclosure, while the Emperor rushed away to the 
telegraph office to cable the glad news to San Francisco of the 
genuine victory of the Stars and Stripes, for was not Woolly 
West a downright American colt, ridden by an American jockey, 
too? Our crowd took a very large sum out of the ring, the Em- 
peror and his son, of course, getting the lion’s share. It was 
enough to turn the head of a young man like Jim to not only win 
so great a race, but to have his hand shaken afterwards most cor- 
dially by the King himself. 

You may be sure that the dinner party in our camp this night 
was a glorious success. The amount of the Emperor's champagne 
that was consumed during this day of days must have been some- 
thing enormous, for it flowed like water. 


. July 22, Friday. 

The industrious Simpson arrived at the camp at 6 a. m. I was 
up to receive him, and for two and a half hours was engaged in 
posting up the reporter in all the chief points of interest connected 
^yith our train of autos, and allowed him to cull all the informa- 
tion he required relating to our tour from the pages of this diary. 

Simpson was most effusive in his thanks, for now he was in a 
position to amply reward his employers for their liberality to 
him. He told me that the proprietor of the Journal had given 


The Yanks Skin The Bookies. 425 

him a virtual carte blanche in regard to his expenses, besides a 
big round sum as remuneration. 

The last day at Goodwood is an off day, and we spent a very 
quiet, though enjoyable time. We only took a languid interest 
in the racing business, and without a single pang of jealousy, 
Jim allowed Admiral Squally to act as squire to Dora, and the 
little man strutted about like a red-faced turkey cock by the side 
of his admired one. 

On our return to the camp we had an early dinner, and as the 
sun was sinking in the west we were rolling swiftly along in the 
direction of Canterbury. 


426 


A 20th Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XX. 

Cinderella's homecoming. 

July 23, Saturday. 

This day may be said to mark the termination of a tour that 
will always be vividly remembered by me. During this all too 
brief month I, for one, have certainly seen more of the inside 
track of my dearest friends' idiosyncrasies than I ever did be- 
fore, and I feel in consequence bound to them by stronger ties 
than ever. You may meet people at short intervals for years and 
years, and yet remain in utter ignorance of the real trend of their 
motives or of the constitution of their characters. A long voyage 
(a month or six weeks is a long one in these days of rapid tran- 
sit) or an expedition like the one just completed brings men and 
women into constant daily contact; he or she must indeed be a 
deep, patient dissembler who can conceal from watchful com- 
panions the petty weaknesses and imperfections of human na- 
ture. 

However artfully contrived and skilfully adjusted, the moral 
and spiritual masks and dominoes are loosened, untied and fall, 
exposing the deficiencies as well as the excellencies of chameleon- 
like dispositions, and happy is it when preconceived opinions of 
friends are not thus changed for the worse. 

The greatest earthly blessings we poor mortals can hope for 
are contented minds, impregnable digestions and firm friends. 
When we are fortunate enough to secure the last let us grapple 
them (as I do) to our souls with hoops of steel. 

After this small soliloquy I will resume. I have said that this 
is practically the closing day of the tour, for to-morrow the 
goodly brotherhood and sisterhood of our little Round Table will 
be at least temporarily dissolved, since its evening will see the 
good Rector journeying to London, from whence he will, after 
having completed some necessary chores, hie him back to the 
Empire City on board a big steamer of the transportation line. 


Cinderella’s Homecoming. 427 

He, the Rector, affirming that the longer period the commodious 
vessel of this line takes in crossing the Atlantic will prove of 
great benefit to his health, as it will mean (for him) drinking in 
so much the more ample supply of pure oceanic oxygen. By the 
same train the Emperor and Dawlish will also speed away on a 
flying expedition to the Land o’ Cakes, to inspect the newly- 
acquired property to the north of Tweed. The Canon and Annie 
will return to their Canterbury home, the former to resume the 
thread of his ecclesiastical functions and the latter to busy herself 
with the complicated details of her wedding trousseau. 

So our queen and her spouse, with Bella and I in attendance, 
will be left to do the honors of the camp till Wednesday, when 
the autos will return to their London stables and we shall take 
up our abode once more on the “ Dora,” which, on the return of 
the Emperor and his trusty secretary on Thursday, will wend 
her way back to Cowes. 

Before leaving our present location we shall give on Tuesday 
next a gigantic reception in the camp, and expect some fifteen 
hundred or two thousand of the elite of society to put in an ap- 
pearance. 

Our unique train of autos and the model encampment has cre- 
ated a perfect furore. Every one seems eager to get a peep, so 
we expect to have a pleasant and a busy day. 

We arrived at our destination yesterday evening in good time, 
and after a light supper and a brief symposium in the cool eve- 
ning air, we sought our respective tents, as we had a hard day’s 
work before us. Our camp is pitched in the park of a personal 
friend of the Canon’s. 

The day’s proceedings were commenced by a grand lunch, at 
which we entertained in the camp the Dean and Chapter and the 
Mayor and Corporation of Canterbury, together with some of 
the big-wigs of the city and neighborhood, including the com- 
manding officers of the various regimental depots from the 
neighboring cavalry camp. The soldiers expressed in unmeas- 
ured terms their appreciation of the skill and thoughtfulness dis- 
played in the conception and equipment of our camp. “ What 
a commissary general you would have made, sir,” observed a gal- 
lant colonel of a crack corps to the Emperor, as he set down with 
a sigh of deep content his emptied champagne glass on the table. 

The government could certainly gather some excellent wrinkles 
from your camp kitchen and utility cars.” 


428 A 20th Century Cinderella. 

The Emperor was obviously gratified by the compliment paid 
him by the military expert, and it was not lost upon him, either, 
as certain cases of superb wine shortly after (so I learned) ar- 
rived at the colonel’s quarters with a visiting card, on which was 
written, ‘‘ With Mr. Clark’s Compliments.” 

All the autos and our noble selves being in readiness, there was 
mounting in hot haste, and the procession wended its way to- 
wards Canterbury. Besides our ecclesiastical, military and lay 
guests, a strong contingent from the yacht, including all the ship’s 
officers and a complement of bluejackets and engine-room artifi- 
cers, were grouped on the various autos. 

On each car waved the British battle flag and the Stars and 
Stripes, and each individual carried miniature replicas of the two 
national ensigns. On the auto coach, which, of course, led the 
way, were the members of our party and big-bugs among our 
visitors, the others being allotted seats on the succeeding autos, 
according to the relative importance of their respective social 
positions. 

On entering the city limits, it was soon apparent that every 
one was bent on making this one of the most notable gala days 
the old town had ever witnessed. Thousands of persons of all 
classes had flocked to the center of attraction, and special after 
special train from the metropolis had come steaming into the 
modest depot, whereby the ordinary and local railroad traffic of 
the place was entirely disorganized, and even in some cases actu- 
ally suspended. 

About a mile outside the city limits we were met by a column, 
consisting of a squadron each of Hussars and Lancers, which the 
commanding officer of the cavalry camp very handsomely, with 
pretty tact, without saying anything about it to the Emperor, had 
ordered to accompany our triumphal progress. 

The Hussars fell in at the head of the procession, while the 
Lancers formed the rear guard. Each squadron was provided 
with its regimental band, and played alternately British and 
American national airs. We made a brave show, indeed, what 
with the troops, the churchmen and civic dignitaries in their of- 
ficial robes, the latter wearing their furred aldermanic gowns, 
trimmed with minever or catskin (probably the latter), with 
their gold chains of office round their necks. As we proceeded 
the crowds grew denser and the cheering became most vocifer- 


Cinderella’s Homecoming. 429 

ous and hearty. There was no claque here, it was all spontaneous 
applause and was evoked by the enthusiasm of true Britons. 

On nearing the Dane John (a great mound, formerly a rough 
fort constructed to protect the city from the Viking invaders, but 
which is now devoted to the peaceful purpose of a public prom- 
enade, and which was on this occasion thronged with dense 
crowds of spectators) we halted, at the Mayor’s desire. At this 
point the road was spanned by a floral arch, on the summit of 
which were two emblematic figures of Britannia and Columbia 
hand in hand, with a large inscription underneath in Gothic char- 
acters formed of roses and lilies of the valley, “ United we stand, 
divided we fall.” On the right hand pillar was a floral legend, 
Welcome to Joshua Clark, our benefactor ” ; on the left pillar 
were similarly inscribed the words, “ Welcome to our Dora and 
her heroic spouse.” 

Now advanced a bevy of young girls dressed in white, bearing 
baskets of flowers and bouquets. I never saw such sweet crea- 
tures, but then Kent is famous for the beauty of its women. The 
leader, a lovely blonde, apparently about sixteen years old (who 
almost rivaled our queen herself in comeliness, and who might 
have stood as an artist’s model for the famous Rowena, who en- 
slaved the affections of the Saxon Hengist), advanced, and with 
faltering accents, recited in tremulous, almost inaudible tones, a 
few lines of rather inflated poetry, obviously the work of some 
local rhymester. The poor girl had probably had them drummed 
into her fair but stupid head by her schoolmaster, but she was so 
overcome by the nervousness occasioned by her first public ap- 
pearance that she required a good deal of prompting by the dam- 
sel behind her, who held openly in her hand a copy of the verses. 

Well, she was through at last, and then presented with pro- 
found curtseys the bouquets to the ladies on the Coach, getting 
in return for herself and her coadjutors a lovely gold watch and 
chain apiece from the hands of our queen herself. How the 
girls’ faces lighted up at receiving these valuable and pretty gifts, 
and how they will treasure them and be continually showing them 
with pardonable pride to their friends. This function being 
ended, our procession got once more under way and the bands 
struck up the “ Star-Spangled Banner,” and amid the ever-in- 
creasing cheers of the multitudes on either side we passed down 
the main street to the town hall. Every window and most of the 
roofs were crowded with occupants, who waved small English 


430 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

and American flags. The streets were kept, and well kept, too, 
by close ranks of Kentish volunteers. Amid the cheering we could 
hear the booming sound of cannon, for a battery of Royal Horse 
Artillery on the cricket ground were discharging in rapid succes- 
sion their quick-firing pieces. What a royal welcome it was. 
The air seemed to quiver with shouts and yells. Every woman 
in that vast assemblage seemed to be shouting Dora’s name, for 
there was no use in denying it, that grateful as the people were 
to the Emperor for his splendid generosity, their first thought 
was that they were welcoming back to their midst a lady who had 
a short time ago lived amongst them unknown and neglected, and 
who had left them with almost a tarnish on her fair fame. No 
reigning princess ever had a more flattering home-coming. No 
wonder that I saw the tears gather in Dora’s lovely eyes, and a 
little sob burst from time to time from her breast as she bowed 
in her innate, truly regal manner to right and left in acknowledg- 
ment of the plaudits of the populace. 

At last we arrived at the town hall, where we alighted and 
entered the edifice, where, with all due solemnity, the Emperor 
was presented by the Mayor with the freedom of the city in a 
silver gilt casket, accompanied with an ornate, pompously-worded 
document written in blue and gold on a parchment, with the city 
seals attached, expressing in formal language the profound thanks 
of the municipality and citizens of Canterbury for his princely 
munificence. 

Once more we mounted the autos and proceeded at a foot’s pace 
to the Cathedral and made our way to the Chapter House, where 
the Dean, surrounded by the Canons, presented the Emperor with 
another highly decorative piece of parchment work, and the Dean, 
in the course of a short address, intimated to him that a window 
would be inserted in the Chapter House commemorative of the 
Emperor’s benefaction in restoring and keeping restored the his- 
toric fane. We then adjourned to the Deanery, where a garden 
party was held, at which all the blue blood of Kent was present, 
and a deal of introductions and handshakings ensued. To Dora 
it must have seemed almost like a dream to be received like a 
veritable princess by people who, a short year ago, hardly had 
been aware of her existence, or if they had been would have con- 
sidered it an act of real condescension to have recognized at all 
a poor orphan girl. I was (and I dare say all the others felt the 
same, including Dora herself) right glad when this function 


Cinderella’s Homecoming. 431 

petered out and the procession once more took the road to the 
cricket ground, where a stand had been erected and some special 
seats ornamented with purple cloths were allotted to us, and 
from these extemporized thrones we witnessed a display of ath- 
letic sports, at the conclusion of which Dora presented the prizes 
to the successful competitors. 


432 


A 2oth Century Cinderella. 


CHAPTER XXL 

A LEGAL HERETIC. 

We all felt tired out when at length we arrived at our camp, 
and didn’t I enjoy a good steam bath previous to dressing for 
dinner. Now I began to appreciate one of the chief incon- 
veniences of the tiresome labors that fall to the lot of Royalties, 
as what we had just gone through would have only been an ordi- 
nary day’s work for them. I am glad I wasn’t born a king. I 
should be bored out of my life, having to live continually as in a 
glass house in the full glare of an unintermittent publicity. Of 
course we had a swell banquet, at which all the big-bugs who had 
taken part in the day’s celebration were present. The Emperor 
was so intoxicated with the splendor of his reception that he be- 
came slightly incoherent before the close of the prolonged repast, 
and mixed up things pretty considerable, and reverted to the ex- 
traordinary idiomatic language of the woolly West. 

When the company had departed, the Coach, Boudoir and 
Smoker being requisitioned to convey them to their respective 
homes, most of our party retired for the night, having had a 
pretty hard day of it. Just as I was about to do the same, I per- 
ceived the Canon and the Rector sitting together, engaged in a 
brisk argument outside the smoking tent. Now I had for some 
time been looking for an opportunity of catching the two clerics 
together, but somehow they had not hitherto shown any great 
disposition to fraternize in private, though they always evinced 
the greatest respect and regard for each other’s opinions when 
in the company of the rest of the push. I knew that I should 
probably never get another chance, as our party broke up next 
day, so all immediate thoughts of repose were resolutely banished 
from my mind, and I lit a cigar and strolled towards the spot 
where the two ecclesiastics were comfortably seated in rockers, 
amply supplied with all necessary things smokable, as well as 
potable. 


A Legal Heretic. 433 

1 approached the couple quite noiselessly, and somewhat 
startled them by my sudden Jack-in-the-box appearance. 

I am afraid I have, my reverend sirs,” said I, “ in a Mephis- 
tophelean manner interrupted your learned discussion. It may be 
on the obscure subjects of Predestination or the origin of evil. If 
I have done so, sooner than interrupt the thread of your argu- 
ments, I will withdraw.” 

Both clerics burst out into a loud guffaw of laughter, and when 
he had recovered himself, the Rector said : 

I guess. Canon, the Judge is most distinctly welcome. Take 
a chair and let me mix you some Scotch whisky and soda. After 
all Schwepp’s soda takes the cake. There is nothing equal to it. 
But you made a bad guess,” continued he. “We were deliberat- 
ing on no less a subject than the comparative merits of English 
and American women.” 

“ Oh, naughty, naughty,” I replied, laughing, as I seated my- 
self so as to form the apex of an equilateral triangle, the two 
clergymen severally occupying the other two angles. “ After all 
you parsons are the best judges of women, wine and wit.” 

“ Not when you are around, my most learned friend,” said the 
Rector, “ but I am afraid the Canon had the best of the argument, 
for by Jupiter the display of downright beauty at the Dean’s 
‘ At Home ’ this afternoon was away ahead of anything I have 
ever seen. But Kentish ladies are not fair samples. It is like 
judging a basket of peaches by a few big ripe ones the artful 
salesman has placed on the top in order to attract customers.” 

“ But I maintain,” replied the Canon, “ that our average Eng- 
lish girl beats the average American in looks, though the former 
is altogether outclassed by the latter when it comes to knowledge 
of dress and the little arts of making herself fascinating. To 
sum up, I will allow that the average American woman, inferior 
though she is to her English sister in the elements of sheer 
physical beauty, such as complexion, figure, hair and eyes, yet 
contrives to make her personality the more charming of the 
two.” 

“ I am quite satisfied with this very candid admission,” replied 
the Rector, laughing ; “ in fact, I confess that I agree with you 
perfectly. After all we do not live in the days of primitive inno- 
cence, and clothes and other frills are considered necessary. So 
we must take modern women as we find them. It is pretty much 
like the case of two athletes, the one a speedier runner than the 
2S 


434 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

other, but who fails to improve on his natural advantages and gets 
beaten by his inferior, but more scientifically trained antagonist.’' 

The clerics, having thus mutually arranged their differences, 
were now at liberty to turn their united forces upon the solitary 
layman. The Rector first opened fire by saying: 

By the way. Judge, that was a most extraordinary question 
you put to me and my holy brother just now. We parsons are as 
little given to talking shop out of school as you legalists.” 

“ There you are off your base. Rector,” said I. “ I remember 
once sitting up the whole of a long winter night with an old 
friend of mine, a leader of the Washington bar, and since elevated 
to the bench as a Judge of the Supreme Court. My friend is a 
profound lawyer and jurist-consultist. We vainly endeavored to 
unravel the intricacies of certain debateable points concerning the 
joint and several liability of co-trustees, and after the consump- 
tion of much midnight oil, or rather of electricity, breath, Scotch 
whisky and tobacco, together with a moderate number of volts of 
brain power, we found ourselves pretty much where we started 
from. We had been arguing in a circle, and crawled rather 
shamefacedly up-stairs to bed as the daylight was beginning to 
steal through the casements.” 

“ My dear brother,” said the Canon, leaning from his chair 
and addressing the Rector in a suave, oily fashion, “ I think we 
have got our learned friend into a tight place from which I can- 
not, for the life of me, see how he can wriggle. Let us hammer 
him, or rather leave me to do the hammering, while you shall 
remain in reserve, to be called into action in case your services 
are required, which I don’t think they are likely to be. Then, 
turning to me, he continued : 

“ Now, my dear sir, I put it to you, if, according to your own 
confession, a pair of very able advocates can manage to wrangle 
a whole night through, with no definite results, over the Delphic 
meaning of the subsection of a slovenly-drawn statute or the 
significance of certain chains of judicial decisions bearing on the 
everyday mutual obligations existing between man and man, what 
earthly advantage then could accrue to a pair of professional 
divines by expending their carefully stored energies in vainly en- 
deavoring to thresh out the most vague and indeterminate prob- 
lems that learned pedants have ever cudgeled their brains with. 
Such speculations, however much they may have assisted half- 


435 


A Legal Heretic. 

crazy recluses and indomitable book-worms to fill their vacant 
hours, are now as obsolete as the custom of burning witches at 
the stake or the system of Ptolemaic astronomy. No, sir, we 
modern ecclesiastics must before everything be practical men, 
since we are continually brought into direct contact with the bustle 
and struggle of a work-a-day world, and we have no time to 
waste pouring over the pious jargon of the early fathers or quar- 
reling about the abstruse subtleties of medieval schoolmen who, 
to judge from the ponderous tomes wherein their opinions are 
crystallized and sepulchered in bewildering terminology, de- 
lighted, like St. Thomas Aquinas, in scaling with infinite labor 
the dizzy heights of exegetical synthesis only to fall from thence 
headlong into the bottomless abyss of tangled perplexity. No, 
sir, I candidly own up to you that I bar theology as a topic of 
conversation, and am of opinion that doctrinal hair-splitting 
should be placed in the same category with such cheerful but 
idiotic recreations as chopping blocks with razors, fighting wind- 
mills, pursuing will-o’-the-wisps or extracting substance out of 
shadows.” 

Pulverized (metaphorically speaking) by the steam roller of 
the Canon’s verbose loquacity, I cried : 

“ I must throw up the sponge ; you have certainly got one in 
on my moral solar plexus, Canon. But though I put my foot 
in it to start with, I trust this will not prevent our having a 
pleasant conversation. The Church and the Law have ever had 
much in common. They have both been upholders of peace and 
order. I confess that I should like to learn from you two gentle- 
men, if you consider that according to your several experiences 
in America and England, religion is holding its own in the hearts 
of the two peoples.” 

“If you mean by religion, churchgoing, then I am afraid I 
must answer in the negative. Judge,” replied the Rector. “ The 
falling ofif in church attendance is not so noticeable among the 
poorer as the wealthier classes. A spirit of passive agnosticism 
and consequently an entire indifference to all forms of religious 
worship is greatly on the increase among the educated classes in 
America, and along with this all kinds of ultra superstition have 
taken deep root among those who remain constant to the ancient 
belief. Such as that pernicious craze the wrongly called Chris- 
tian Science, faith healing and other forms of religious hysteria. 
People no longer seem satisfied with the simple, robust faith of 


436 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

their ancestors. Christianity is passing through the most crucial 
trial it has ever experienced, but I believe that it will come out 
triumphant in the end.” 

“ I am quite of your opinion, Rector,” said the Canon. 

“ People are more conservative or less ingenuous in the old 
country, and church attendance keeps up to a fair standard, but 
nevertheless there is a terrible lot of empty formalism. Multi- 
tudes of people still attend Divine worship out of pure habit, as 
the result of their early training, and because it is still considered 
respectable to do so. But so far as actual sincerity of profession 
goes, I believe that the followers of Mahomet, Buddha, and Con- 
fucius put to shame the nominal disciples of Jesus.” 

I now perceived my opportunity, and remarked : 

“ Gentlemen, I am sorry to learn of the existence of what is 
certainly a melancholy state of things. But does it not occur to 
both of you that the churches are a good deal to blame in the mat- 
ter ? They do not seem to keep abreast with the times. There is a 
blind, stupid clinging to archaic ideas and methods. The Chris- 
tian Church (including in this phrase the Roman, Greek and all 
denominations of Protestants) seems still inclined to make no real 
concession to science, and may be compared to an army furnished 
with flint-lock muskets and smooth-bore cannon, indifferently 
commanded, opposed to a small but highly organized force, pro- 
vided with the latest species of deadly long-range weapons and 
generaled by skilful strategists. There can be no question what 
would be the natural outcome of a conflict between such antago- 
nists. Let the Church re-arm and adapt herself to her modern 
environments, and make an honorable treaty of peace with science, 
and gain the benefit of her weighty assistance, instead of in- 
curring her veiled hostility.” j 

“ I am afraid such an alliance would be a fatal one for religion,” | 
said the Rector, with a sigh. i 

How so ? ” I replied. 

“ Why science does not allow even intermittent interferences of 
a personal Deity. She maintains that the operations of nature 
are regulated entirely by immutable law. Prayer in such circum- | 
stances would degenerate into meaningless forms. Faith would j 
wither like a gourd in the noonday sun. I do not see, also, how 
the Church could conveniently swallow, without discarding the 
inspiration of the Pentateuch (in fact of the whole Bible), the 
doctrine of the evolution of man from lower forms of animated 


A Legal Heretic. 437 

matter, or indeed of the extreme antiquity of man/’ said the 
Rector. 

“ But, nevertheless,” replied I, pressing the attack, “ no ra- 
tional individual can deny not only the extreme probability, but 
the certainty of the truth of such theories. How can you. Rector, 
our saintly friend, the Canon, or your humble servant believe that 
Almighty God with His own fingers like a gigantic Nuremburg 
toy-maker (to use the pregnant expression of J. D. White) 
fashioned man and woman out of lumps of clay? Or that the 
whole world was drowned because of man’s wickedness, or that 
the dispersion of the builders of Babel was the signal for the 
sudden formation of the various languages? There is no osten- 
sible proof of a universal Deluge ever having taken place, and it 
would be going too far, surely, to say that God removed all 
traces of the big washout, in order to mislead geologists. Again, 
philologists have most clearly proved that Sanscrit, and perhaps 
Telegoo and Tamil, were probably the mother tongues, but they 
go further and allege that to find the origin of language, we must 
grope into the enormously remote epochs, when Neolithic and 
even Palaeolithic man spoke in gutturals and scratched their pic- 
torial ideas on shells and flints in the post-tertiary, and as some 
scientists now say the tertiary-periods. The fact is it is as clear 
as day that all mundane changes, geologic and otherwise, were 
brought about by the slow operation of law, during countless ages, 
and not by sudden cataclysms or by the arbitrary interventions 
of a capricious Deity.” 

“ Admitting all you say. Judge,” said the Canon, taking up 
his parable, you must surely see that it would be an awful blunder 
to subvert our ancient religion by preaching such advanced ideas 
to the people. An appalling amount of harm would be wrought. 
We should be destroying the faith, the one consolation of mil- 
lions of poor souls. That would be a devil’s work. Let us be 
careful not to uproot the wheat along with the tares.” 

“ Then,” said I (seeing that I was getting the worthy eccle- 
siastic himself into a corner), “ you don’t think it wrong to teach 
to others what you don’t believe in yourself ? ” 

“ That’s putting it rather strong, Judge,” replied the Canon, 
puffing hard at his cigar, “ but you are partly right. Soft food 
for children, strong meat for men. In all religious systems there 
have been two classes, the esoteric and exoteric, or those who are 
in the know and those who are not, the learned and the unlearned 


438 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

or, as you Americans would say, those who are on the inside and 
outside tracks. Druid, Buddhist, Catholic and Protestant priests, 
and Greek Church popes are birds of a feather. We are all 
tarred with the same brush, but the same may be said of school 
teachers who have to explain things to the young in a simple and 
(often to the adult mind) absurd way. We clergy have to deal 
with the ignorant and lowly, using a similar method. The paral- 
lel is perfect.” 

“ By your frank confession I admit you have disarmed me, 
my dear Canon,” said 1. “ I can see that you and I (and if he 

will allow me to include him, the Rector, which by the Jove-like 
nod of his head I perceive that he does) are on a common plat- 
form. I, myself, am an agnostic Unitarian. I consider that the 
doctrine of the Trinity is untenable, that this said doctrine is con- 
tinually, in the opinion of the vulgar, degenerating into Tritheism 
as it did in the days of Mahomet. Even the creeds of the 
Catholic and Episcopal churches contain solecisms, like that one 
which, after having recited the fact that Jesus Christ is God, goes 
on naively to say that He ascended into Heaven, and sat down on 
the right hand of God. I simply ask how can God sit down on 
His own right hand, unless there are several entirely distinct per- 
sons of the same Deity, which is plainly Tritheism or Polytheism? 
I also reject the doctrine of the Atonement as a survival of an 
ancient form of devil worship, when our remote ancestors consid- 
ered it necessary to propitiate a savage fetich. As for the incar- 
nation, that is another old-time piece of anthropomorphism, which 
seems to have arisen in Egypt or India. The Blessed Virgin was 
enthroned as Queen of Heaven, by the semi-paganized Christians 
of the fourth century, and she took the place of the Egyptian Isis, 
with her incarnate son Horus, and of Ceres the Goddess of Fertil- 
ity among the Romans. In fact, certain superstitions are com- 
mon to all the great religions.” 

“ It is lucky. Judge,” said the Canon, laughing, “ that we are 
not living in the days of the Inquisition and of religious intoler- 
ance, or you would be liable to be burnt at the stake, or broken on 
the wheel for holding such heretical opinions.” 

“ Perhaps so,” I replied. “ But even in the highest man-made, 
religious system the Deity is invested with the property of sex,” 
said I, “ and when it comes to this, why should God be masculine 
any more than feminine? Certainly women as earthly rulers 


A Legal Heretic. 439 

have proved vastly more successful than men. Petticoat govern- 
ment is undoubtedly the best.” 

“ Even in our own little circle, there is a most brilliant proof 
of the truth of this, for what crowned sovereign rules more 
wisely, or has ever possessed more faithful and devoted subjects, 
than our Queen Dora ? ” said the Rector, laughing. 

“ I see, however, what the Judge means,” said the Canon, “ but 
as formulae are necessary for the expression of mathematical 
functions and equations, so, however anthropomorphic it may be, 
still it is necessary for human comprehension to attribute sex 
to the Supreme Being, and since the male is physically the 
stronger (and in ancient times physical strength and courage were 
the two grand essentials), it was natural to refer to a Deity as of 
the masculine gender. To have made a God sexless would have 
implied impotence, but directly a certain stage of civilization was 
reached, there commenced woman-worship, and in due course lady 
deities were associated with the gentleman ones (very ungentle- 
manly ones, too, sometimes), but the man-gods still remained 
nominal bosses of their respective shows, though as in the Egyp- 
tian, Greek and Roman theological systems, the female gods really 
seemed to possess the greater share of mentality, and therefore 
of directing power. How immensely superior to their clumsy, 
cruel and stupid male associates were Isis, Athena and Minerva. 
We find goddesses (but not gods) of wisdom worshiped in 
Athens, Alexandria and Rome.” 

“ That leads up,” said I, “ to a question which it is surprising 
has not hitherto been better ventilated. One would suppose that 
it would be as difficult to start a new theological system as to 
invent a really sound chess opening. Though I cannot accept 
the doctrine of a Trinity, what is the matter with a duality ? It is 
evident that everything animate in nature (and in this, of course, 
is included flowers, trees and possibly lower forms than we have 
any notion of) has the principle of sexuality inherent in it, and 
is composed of male and female entities. And if this is true of 
this world, why should it not also be true of the Universe? 
Therefore, surely it is conceivable that the Godhead itself should 
be dual, male and female, in an eternal infinite, unthinkable tran- 
scendent union from whence has ever proceeded, is proceeding, 
and ever will proceed, as from an inexhaustible source, all energy, 
spiritual, moral and physical, and all forms of potential matter. 
I feel I could believe in such a dual God. Our present system 


440 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

assumes the existence of an evil essence or power, called the 
devil, apparently quite equal in puissance to God. The latter’s 
plan of creation was spoiled by the devil, and God was compelled 
to sacrifice His Son and partner, in order to even things up, and 
then we are led to suppose that the devil will corral by far the 
greatest proportion of the human race, and burn them up, leaving 
the good God only an insignificant proportion as His share. This 
assumes a ghastly failure of the whole plan of salvation, and the 
ultimate triumph of evil, for Christ, Himself, has said, ‘ Many 
are called but few are chosen. Strait is the gate and narrow 
is the way that leadeth to life eternal, and few there be that walk 
in it.’ Thereby foretelling His own failure to draw all men unto 
Him. In a word the Christian system is similar to the Persian, 
by which the good and evil principles are forever carrying on an 
indecisive scrap, first one, then the other being on top. All this 
is utterly derogatory to the Omnipotence of God. 

“ I firmly believe that we are on the eve of a grand, religious 
upheaval, the outcome of which will result in all the best and most 
useful features of Christianity (more especially the Life and 
Example of the Master Himself) being fused with other elements 
to form a cult — namely, the religion of universal human brother- 
hood. Christianity as is professed, has egregiously failed either 
in converting the majority of the human race, or of inducing men 
to love each other. The world is getting tired of our disgraceful 
Christianizing methods. It is time that that dreadful procession 
composed of the missionary, the rum-seller, the soldier and the 
merchant, in order named, should cease its spoliating, devastating 
course. It is not men’s salvation that is the object that is sought 
after, but territorial plunder and the acquisition of fresh markets 
for manufactures. The extension of Christ’s kingdom is the 
last thing thought of. Let us not throw rocks at the heathen 
for worshiping idols, when we are -doing the same thing our- 
selves all the time, for are we not true Unitarians? We fall 
down and worship one god, the image of whom is made of the 
same metal as that one set up on the plains of Shinar long, long 
ago.” 

“You are nothing if not original, Judge,” said the Canon. 
“ But there is a terrible amount of truth in what you say. It is 
an awful thing to contemplate the fact, that Christianity seems to 
bring more curses than blessings in its wake, that savage tribes 
degenerate, wither, and die on contact with civilization. That 


441 


A Legal Heretic. 

the natural accompaniment of the Bible is, if not always the 
sword, almost always the whisky bottle. He, too, is wilfully 
blind who refuses to acknowledge that the dollar is the one great 
power in the world. There is only one thing that men value as 
much, and that is health, which they recklessly squander in the 
eager scramble for the first. Men in a general sense have ceased 
to trouble themselves about an unseen world in which most of 
them disbelieve. They have ceased to believe in a Judgment to 
come, and consequently inretributory punishment. All we who 
still cling to our Faith are looking forward to a New Revelation, 
which may help to dispel this cloud of materialistic agnosticism, 
that like a dense tog seems overhanging the civilized world.” 

“ I am afraid, my saintly brother, that you are a pessimist. 
But how little,” said the Rector, “ does acquiescence (I will not 
say belief) in any creed help a man. But the life and example 
of the Lord Jesus Christ is a living, tangible reality, and an 
undying immortal pattern, and it is by their lives that we judge 
men. In this we are all agreed, so, gentlemen, let us not wrangle 
about trifles, but let us all strive to observe the weightier matters 
of the law. 

“We have but faith, we cannot know, 

For knowledge is of things we see 
And yet we trust it conies from Thee. 

A beam in darkness let it grow 

Let knowledge grow from more to more. 

But more of reverence in us dwell 
That mind and soul according well 
May make one music as before 
But vaster. . .” 

What profound depths of Christian philosophy we find in 
that master poet of the last century. What splendid lines those 
are, but then the ‘ In Memoriam ’ is incomparable,” said the 
Canon. 

“ I wonder when we three will meet again to have another talk. 
I hope before any of us cross the Great Divide,” said the Rector, 
“ but I for one have enjoyed this tour as I never enjoyed an 
outing before.I shall never forget it, and its personae dramatis. 
I shall have a lot to tell the Mother Superior on my return. I 
say. Judge, I shall have to borrow your diary.” 

“ With pleasure, but it strikes me, Rector,” said I, “ that you 
are pretty thick with that worthy lady.” 

“ We have one common bond of union. Judge,” replied the 


442 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

Canon, “ * Dora.’ Let us drink, gentlemen, to the health of our 
Queen.” 

We drained our glasses, and then gripped hands all round and 
sang Auld Lang Syne,” in subdued tones, in a triangular circle 
(to make a regular Irish bull), before seeking our couches. 

With the completion of the tour terminates (at least tempo- 
rarily) the regular keeping of my diary. It has given me pleas- 
ure in writing it up, and I hope it may be of service to some of 
my friends across the water. 


The West Window. 


443 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE WEST WINDOW. 


July 24, Sunday. 

Somehow I couldn’t help jotting down some reflections on this 
days’ doings, though I consider that our tour with all its incidents 
ended last night. Our little party broke up to-day, and the pro- 
ceedings were of a valedictory order. We all attended a grand 
morning service in the Cathedral, and were accommodated with 
seats in the choir. Every place in the vast edifice was filled, and 
even standing room in the nave and transepts were at a premium. 
A procession was formed consisting of the church dignitaries, 
the Mayor and Aldermen of the city, and the full choir headed 
by the Dean and the Emperor. Before it started the organ 
pealed forth as a voluntary the strains of the magnificent March 
of the Priests, taken from the Oratorio of Athalie. Then as the 
procession marched round the great church, the choir burst forth 
with the noble hymn “ Onward, Christian Soldiers,” the whole of 
the vast congregation standing up and joining in. The effect 
was magnificent and even awe-inspiring. Seated as we were 
in the choir, and therefore separated from the rest of the Cathe- 
dral, we could not see the mass of the congregation, but if we 
could not see we could hear, and I shall never forget the effect 
to my dying day. I confess I was fairly carried away by religious 
enthusiasm. I felt that my soul was for the moment exalted 
and purified in a way I hadn’t conceived possible. It is one thing 
to callously argue from the depths of one’s armchair about the 
futility of creeds, and of the delusions of a childish faith, and 
another to be in one of these glorious Gothic cathedrals imbued 
with the thrilling solemnity of the place, with its countless tradi- 
tions of generations of men who have lived and died in the faith 
of their forefathers, uniting your voice to thousands of others in 
one grand paean of praise and thanksgiving. For it was a 
service of thanksgiving. When the procession had passed into 


444 A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

the choir, and the various persons comprising it had taken their 
seats, I could see that the Emperor himself, practical man of 
the world as he is, was deeply affected, and when the Dean opened 
the service by a beautiful prayer he had specially composed for 
the occasion, the grand but simple words seemed to find an echo 
in my heart as I know they did in the Emperor’s, as we knelt 
side by side, and I felt that I was praying almost involuntarily 
with, to me, incomprehensible earnestness to the one Eternal 
Father of us all. There was no formalism here. Those tears 
that I could see trickling between the fingers of the old man kneel- 
ing by my side, with his face buried in his clasped hands, told 
their own tale, and we rose from that brief communing with the 
unseen, better men than when we had knelt down. The service 
was short and hearty. The Rector read the first lesson, the Canon 
the second, and both did full justice to the terse, noble language 
of Holy Writ. The choir sang exquisitely the anthem “ How 
beautiful are the feet of those who publish the Gospel of peace,” 
and the Dean preached a most impressive sermon from the text 
“ And Solomon built him a house,” in which he referred in 
most eloquent terms to the Emperor’s grand benefactions, the 
holy nature of such gifts, and of the blessings which fall to the 
share of those who show that they are righteous stewards of the 
wealth that has been entrusted to them. And then as a finale, 
rang out from the choir, Handel’s masterpiece, the Hallelujah 
Chorus. The Canon entertained us to lunch, with the Dean and 
Chapter and the Mayor and Corporation in his Rectory, and 
afterwards showed us round the Cathedral. Time was growing 
short when we were through, as three of the members of our 
party were soon to board the train for London. We were 
grouped together gazing at the glorious west window, the sun’s 
rays were illuminating the painted glass, casting a radiance over 
the members of our little party. Dora and her husband were 
standing hand in hand, and so were the two fiances, Annie and 
Dawlish, when Jim observed : 

“ This is the very spot, my darling Dora, where you introduced 
your sweet self to me. What a dififerent man I feel to what I 
was then, and it is all your doing.” 

“ You were an awful heathen then, I confess, my darling,” 
replied our queen, “ you hadn’t even read the Bible, and my 
uncle and cousins were dreadfully shocked when I told them 
of it, but you have been a very industrious scholar in my Sunday- 


The West Window. 445 

school since, and can tell the Canon the names of those saints 
who are pictured in that window, can’t you ? ” 

Jim answered quite pat off, rather to the Canon’s wonder, I 
think, though I shrewdly suspect that Jim had been privately 
coached for the occasion by his fair wife. 

“ Dora, dear,” said the Emperor, “ you have indeed been my 
son’s guardian angel, and mine too,” he added with a half sigh, 
which seemed to imply that he (the old man) would have pre- 
ferred to have had the ministrations of the said guardian angel 
all to himself, “ but, Jim,” he continued, addressing his son, “ you 
lie altogether over me now. For I’m darned if I knew who any 
of those cranks in long coats and bare feet, and with electric light 
fakements round their heads might be.” (The good gentleman 
referred to the saints’ halos.) 

‘‘ You will have to join my Sunday-school class, too. Daddy,” 
said Dora, affectionately. “ Jim is getting on famously.” 

“ I am a bit past that I am afraid, my dear,” replied the old 
man. “ I fear I am an awful old pagan. I know nothing of the 
Bible.” 

“ They are not always the best Christians who are most deeply 
versed in the Scriptures,” observed the Rector. 

“ I quite agree with you,” said the Canon, solemnly. “ What 
does it benefit a man though he may have committed every sen- 
tence of the Bible to memory, if his heart remains untouched by 
the spirit of Christ’s teaching? Indeed, his knowledge may, and 
often does, have a hardening effect on him, so that though he may 
shine as a zealous upholder of the Church, versed in every form 
of polemical controversy, an astute theologian, and outwardly a 
man of pure morals, he may be utterly wanting in that spirit of 
true charity and self-denying humility, that form the very essence 
of Christianity, without which he is in the sight of God mere 
sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.” 

I could see the Canon’s face light up as he spoke with earnest 
fervor, and as I gazed on it I felt that he, too, had learned his 
lesson as we were all learning ours, from the lips and example 
of a good, true-hearted woman. For I felt sure that his words 
just spoken referred emphatically to himself, to what he had 
been, and to what he is now. For a moment there was silence, 
which was broken by Dora observing : 

“ So, Mr. Dean, you are going to put Daddy in a painted win- 
down in the Chapter house. Will Mr. Clark be depicted in a frock 


446 A 2oth Century Cinderella. 

coat, tall silk hat, shepherd’s plaid trousers, and patent leather 
shoes? How funny he will look alongside the ancient saints in 
their simple attire.” 

“ I don’t know about that,” replied the Dean. “ I had the 
same opinion as you, when I first saw the stained glass picture 
of our great modern national saint. General Charles Gordon, in 
Manchester Cathedral, dressed in a plain Norfolk jacket, with a 
fez on his head, a cane in his hand and accoutered with belt and 
revolver. I have seen it again lately, and the figure did not seem 
at all incongruous. There is an air of reality and purpose about 
it which the others seem to somewhat lack.” 

“ That is so,” said I. “ The popular impression of Bible saints 
seems to be that they were a kind of supernatural beings, half 
human, half angelic, not work-a-day people like ourselves, 
with the same passions, and subject to the same temptations, and 
who, too, appeared to the outside world as ordinary mortals, 
mostly common artisans, for instance like St. Paul the tentmaker, 
or St. Peter the fisherman. Though the former, a man of im- 
mense intellectual power, of fine education and a Roman citizen 
to boot, as a leading Jewish lawyer, the pet pupil of Gamaliel, 
would have been sure to have made his mark, if he had not been 
converted to Christianity.” 

” I suppose the idea has occurred to all of us at times,” said 
my wife, “ that one cannot imagine the saints going about, per- 
forming the ordinary duties and functions of life, and I attribute 
this mistaken idea (for mistaken it undoubtedly is) to the fact 
of our being in the habit, from our earliest childhood, of seeing 
them depicted by the old masters in costumes that we are not 
accustomed to, and standing or sitting in ecstatic attitudes of 
wonder and adoration.” 

“ What strikes me hardest,” said Jim, judging from my Bible 
studies in Dora’s school, is that these holy persons never seemed 
capable of having a good time. I often wonder if any of them 
by themselves were ever jolly, or amusing together when they 
had climbed off their perches.” 

‘‘ They doubtless,” said the Rector, “ had their faults and fail- 
ings. For instance, St. Peter was hot-headed, obstinate and pas- 
sionate and St. Paul would seem to have been inclined to be harsh 
and censorious, especially where women were concerned, though 
he certainly never spared himself, but they were, nevertheless, val- 
iant men and women, standing up fearlessly in defence of the 


The West Window. 


447 


truth, denying themselves every pleasure, and living and dying 
according to the example that their master had set them. It 
would be well for the world if they had in these luxurious and 
money-loving days a more numerous body of imitators.” 

“ That’s very nobly put,” said the Dean, gently. And we all, 
men and women of kindred races, stood there for a moment or 
two in silence, gazing up at the pictured saints in that glorious 
window, through which streamed the effulgent rays of the 
western sun, lighting up the upturned reverent faces of our 
little crowd, and here I will lay down my pen. I know not 
what the future may have in store for any of us ; all I know is, 
that I bless a kind Providence that has thrown Bella and me 
into the intimate society of noble-hearted men and women. We 
both of us are coming to the knowledge that life is not entirely 
made up of business, pleasure and social duties as we used to 
esteem it. That there are paths marked out for all of us for 
doing good in our generation to our fellow men and women, if 
we will only find them out, and so acting, we shall dematerialize 
our lives and make ourselves worthy of a happy immortality. 
But we both of us see clearly that we all owe this happy change 
to the subtle influence of a woman, Dora Clark. She is insensibly 
moulding the lives of not only the old man and his son, her 
husband, but of her uncle and his daughters (for Annie says 
that the rough edges are being worn off the characters of her 
sisters, owing to the influence Dora has over them), Dawlish, 
Bella, my wife, and in fact of all who come into contact with 
her firm and beautiful character. God knows what future in- 
fluence such a woman, with her immense wealth and social posi- 
tion may not have over the society of two hemispheres, a society 
that is becoming satiated with pleasure, and enervated with cor- 
ruption and impurity. We cannot foresee what is in store for 
us, but as for Bella and I, we shall be proud and content to humbly 
assist her and the two noble men who love her so dearly, in 
their works of beneficence and philanthropy, taking our share 
of the good things of this life, and of dispensing them to others, 
and of gladly bearing with them any of the rubs of fate that may 
be in store for all of us, however fortunate and prosperous, and 
with them when God pleases, pass to where (using the words of 
a great poet) “ beyond these voices there is peace.” Perhaps 
some day I may have occasion to reopen the pages of this diary 
again, for the purpose of making other than fugitive entries; if 


44^ A 2 oth Century Cinderella. 

I do so, I trust that the new record will be .a chronicle of a time 
equally pleasurable to all concerned as the one we have just ex- 
perienced. 


L’ENVOL 

I have judged this to be an appropriate time to terminate this 
book, which I fear is already too long, both for my publishers 
and for the public. Some excuse is necessary, and I now make 
it. A novelist is apt to get too fond of his characters and parts 
with them with regret. But after all, I have only carried out 
my original plan, which was, on the termination of my heroine’s 
adventures in the States, that I should bring her back to her own 
country, and finish up by a triumphal entry into the city where 
she had passed so incomplete and obscure an existence, trodden 
down and despised by her relatives. I had to find Captain Dawl- 
ish a bride, and I have done so, and I wished to show the bright 
side of the Canon’s character, which improves as we go on. I 
wished my readers to see more of the worthy Rector, and also to 
give a sample of a tour under modern conditions through a part of 
old England I know and love so well. So it will be seen, that 
though with all these objects in view the work has grown upon 
my hands, I am not conscious of any eflfort of spinning it out, 
quite the reverse, and so I beg leave to crave the indulgence of the 
reader. Some day perhaps I may find another mass of closely 
written pages of the Judge’s diary, as he himself hints, treating 
of events in the after lives of my characters. Till then I must bid 
farewell to them and to the reader. 



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